After Dusk
by Lady NeverAfterNon
Summary: Picks up where Chronicles of Riddick leaves off. Riddick/Fry, Please Read and Review.
1. Rebirth

**Author's Note:**_ This is going to be fiddled with, but ultimately it's finished._

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing._

**Song for the Chapter:**_ Colors - Crossfade_

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**After Dusk**

**By:** _Lady Neverafternon_

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A planet, far away from any human civilization once more came into the light. Like a bowl filled to the brim with flaming light suddenly tipping, dawn flooded the dark world and brought to light horrors that could only be imagined. Shapes, terrible shapes that had swarmed over the planet like vermin out of a nightmare suddenly screamed in pain and terror, before crawling back into the ground from whence they came.

A torn, broken, despairing figure crawled slowly from the crack in a rock formation she had been hiding in and drank in the welcome light from the three suns. The body of the figure should, by all possible means, not even be moving. The woman's left arm was broken and shredded so that it hung at an odd angle, an ankle was sprained badly, several ribs were cracked and one was broken, her back was torn open by what looked by the talons of some hideous beast. The wounds had long since stopped bleeding but the huge dried scab mixed with cloth and mud where the figure had obviously tried to staunch the bleeding was discolored and not healing well.

The woman slowly and painfully drug herself to a spot where days before a small spacecraft had broken free of the planet's gravity and made its way to space and freedom.

They'd left her, they'd really left her. A dry sob choked her throat. After all that had happened, after all they'd been through she had been left behind. They'd left her. _He_ had left her. Left her to die.

She lay there on the burned and charred area of sand miserably before dragging herself to her feet.

She looked from horizon to horizon. All about her was nothing but sand, sun, and blistering heat. It was a far cry from the wet dark hell it had been only hours before, but still, the view was decidedly bleak. After a moments of bleary eyed looking around, she spied a vehicle that had rumbled to life the moment the sun rose. The SandCat had rumbled to life the moment the brilliant fuel had struck its sensors and it purred like a baby.

Finally, hope in a desolate situation.

The woman limped to it and sank with a sigh into the hard seat. She grunted, shifting, attempting to get comfortable. The plated seat hurt her back and she knew that the vehicle's jostling would probably make her wound worse, but honestly that was something she was prepared to live with. She'd prefer being shuttled over walking any day no matter how uncomfortable it was, especially after the awful time she'd had. Pressing the power button, she fed energy into the engine. Leaning back into the seat she sighed with relief. The welcome comfort of technology was not a fixer, but it made her feel slightly better and gave her a level of security that was a balm to her ruined psyche.

The desert buggy leapt to life and jolted off into the desert away from the research station.

The corners of her eyes burned, but the woman stared straight ahead and refused to acknowledge the tears of pain, rage, and disappointment prickling at the corners of her eyes. What was done was done. Crying about it would not fix things.

It did not take her long to reach the crash site of the ruined wreckage of the Hunter-Gratznar. She stumbled to the wreck and reassessed the damage. The ship itself was trashed beyond fixing, but the there were a few sections with minimal damage and others with none at all. With a determined growl she set about cleansing and binding her wounds with a med kit before turning to the wrecked craft itself.

It took her almost six months to salvage the wreck into a feasible flying craft, and even then it was not a sure thing that it would even break orbit. For all intents and purposes though, she'd built a spaceship. It look like she'd taken random chunks of ship shaped metal and nailed them together with spit and a prayer.

She had been terrified that the suns would disappear again, and that the creatures would return, but they didn't. She spent all her time fighting tooth and nail with the wrecked ship sealing holes and transferring power from the left over power cells into her makeshift vessel. It was tedious and slow work, but it finally was finished. She was pleased as punch when the Hunter-Gratznar's test system transfered without a problem and she was able to run a systems check on her new ships computer and engine.

The computer promptly informed her that her patchwork craft would never pass regulations but it was feasible. The last thing she cared about was passing Company standards. Well, Carolyn Fry decided she would get out of here or die trying. The hell with spending the rest of her life in this godforsaken shithole.

With closed eyes and a single murmured prayer, she flipped on the engine for the final burn.

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Edmond McLain, Ed for short, was 42 and the chief mechanic on the space station Grolier Classic II. He wasn't proud of his job, but it was a living and he did it well. As for his personality he was nice enough, a little on the rough side and being Irish he had the stereotypical wild thatch of red hair and the fondness for drink. He lived a normal life, went to work and managed his crew and sent money home to his lady and kids. Days flowed together in a mundane blur. Nothing out of the ordinary really happened on the Grolier Classic, except for the occasional brawl between roughnecks and settlers.

That was to be expected though. Life was a blur out here on the edge of the known universe. You worked, and you kept your nose clean. Nothing really happened out of the ordinary.

So the day that the makeshift spaceship came crashing into the hanger was quite a day indeed. The ship looked like it had been half-hazard nailed together and about ready to fall apart. And more than half of it did fall apart when it landed, strewing his hanger with smoking debris. If that could be called a landing. More like crashing delicately. He was even more surprised when a young woman, who looked even more worse off than her ship, stumbled from its interior. She stayed conscious long enough to say two things.

"M-my name's Carolyn Fry. May I have a drink of water please?" Then she collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

Which was not surprising considering the situation; the woman looked almost as shitty as her ship.

Ed McLain whistled in astonishment before motioning some men over to take this Carolyn Fry to sickbay. He stood looking at her ship for a long moment before shaking his head. He was impressed in spite of himself.

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It would be days and days before the last survivor of the dark planet awoke, and when she did she had no inkling to speak about where she had come from or who she was. She also denied vehemently that her name was Carolyn Fry. Instead she called herself Abigail Lee. Ed felt guilty about it, but he had to tell her about the damage her ship caused to the hanger, as well as her massive medical bill. She had listened in silence before telling him she had no way to pay off her debts. She didn't talk about her pilot status with the Company and she figured the Company had cut ties with her long ago, and appearing back on their radar would not do her a lick of good. They'd detain her and being detained by the Company was no joke.

Ed McLain was silent a moment, thinking.

"Well lass, since you have exceptional skills as a pilot and mechanic, I'll sign you on as one of my deep space engine mechanics. After a while, when your debts are paid, you can leave. Or you can stay if you like. The lodgins' good, plain but comfortable. And you'll be left alone. All workers get their own set of rooms, company provided o' course," Ed McLain said. He held out his hand.

Carolyn stared at it a moment before shaking it firmly.

Ed nodded his approval. "You'll start when you're well enough to work."

When he left she fell back against the pillows. Closing her eyes, she tried to find sleep but a pair of silver eyes haunted her dreams.

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_To be continued..._


	2. Abigail Lee

**Author's Note:** _Here we go again, I'll probably have more cleanup but this is what I got for now._

**Disclaimer**: I_ own nothing._

**Song for the Chapter:**_ Dragonfly - Shaman's Harvest _

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**Abigail Lee**

_II_

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"Hey Lee! Didn't you hear the dinner bell? C'mon talk to me baby!"

A grating man's voice rang through the somewhat quite hanger like a bellow from a psychotic cow. The noise rang from the walls like a bullet, taking forever to leave and annoying the occupants more than anything by sticking in their ears like a stubborn bit of earwax.

Ed McLain glanced up from checking off tool shipment manifests on his clipboard to the small drama unfolding in the large hanger. A group of male workers, typically big, hairy, and smelly (the clean polite sort never seemed to survive long on their sections of the outskirts of the universe) were grouped around the door to the hanger; their attention directed on an inconspicuous blond woman with her head half stuck into an engine compartment three times as big as she was.

She gave no notice that she'd heard them. Then again, it was quite possible that she didn't. Engines were certainly noisy enough. And then again, it was also possible that she was doing her best to ignore them. Ed privately reflected that any good looking lady with an ounce of good breeding would never give any of his other mechanic rats a second glance. And the woman known as Abigail Lee certainly off that vibe of I'm-so-mysterious-and-I-have-a-bad-history-oh-no-you-can't-get-with-this. He chuckled. The show was progressing. The biggest and the smelliest of the roughnecks, obviously the leader of the group, stepped forward.

"Lee! You ignoring me cupcake?" he bellowed, meaty hands cupped around the fleshy slobbering hole of his mouth.

The woman looked up from her work, finally noticing the group of men, and stared at them. They catcalled, obviously enjoying the entertainment. She blinked, flipped them the bird and promptly returned to her work.

Ed grinned and shook his head. _'Way to go Lee. Kick him where it hurts. If his pride doesn't make his head explode, I'll have to demote him to make sure his head can make it through doors still.'_

Ralph Wilcox, a drifting roughneck and current leader of the noisy raucous crowd picking on Abigail, had a fetish for picking on the strange blond. He'd follow her around like a lost puppy, poking and prodding and attempting to get a rise out of her anyway he could. Ed supposed it was because of Ralph's usual choice in women. They were mostly beautiful, buxom, and they put out. Abigail Lee, on the other hand was just the opposite. She didn't give him the time of day, and pretended he didn't exist. If he ever laid a hand on her, she beat the snot out of him with Company taught defense moves. He'd find himself flat on his back with no idea how he got there, seeing double. She would leave him there and go back to work like nothing happened.

To Ralph Wilcox, Abigail was an anomaly, and a potentially fantastic new toy. He kept coming back for more.

Carolyn Fry, known on the Grolier Classic as Abigail Lee, was a hard worker and a excellent mechanic. She talked to no one. When on the rare occasion she went to the mess hall for a meal, she sat alone and made no effort to seek out a group. Her peers called her the Ice Bitch on account of her cold, reclusive habits and sick-up-the-ass attitude. She let no one close to her. She asked nothing of people and expected nothing in return. Her only evident desire was that people let her alone. She did her job, and she did it well, no matter how insignificant it was.

Abigail Lee was an enigma. To the people inhabiting the Grolier Classic, she was a mystery that was impossible to figure out: she came crashing in from deep space, she could pilot and had star cruiser class mechanic skills, she had Company defense moves, and the scars...

She'd been working as a mechanic on the space station Grolier Classic II for over five years now. Day after day she reported to Edmond Mclain's hanger promptly when her shift started and left long after her shift ended. She put in more hours than most of the other mechanics, and Ed didn't think it was necessarily because she was attempting to work off her debt early, no...it was more like she was trying to work something out of her memory, something horrible that she would be able to drive out through sheer monotony of labor. It was hard work, mainly because she forced herself above and beyond what the other workers put in. Ed was getting on in years, and had still absolutely no idea what drove the mysterious lady who daily set the hanger and canteen jabbering and speculating. But something did indeed drive her, she was by far his best mechanic and the woman worked like a machine. He certainly had no desire to lose her. So he kept her happy by giving her work and keeping her interested followers from getting too annoying. Namely Ralph Wilcox who needed a beating every now and then when he got too eager and needed to be convinced the hard way to give Abigail a little space.

Carolyn knew there was a lot of gossip going around about her. It was perfectly understandable after all. People on the space station had absolutely nothing interesting going on and Carolyn new that she was perfect gossip material. They wondered what the story was with the strange young woman who had at one time must have been relatively pretty, but was now scarred horribly, thick ropes of scares covering her shoulders, arms, and back who had come crashing into a space station on the edge of familiar space, from deep space.

But Carolyn Fry never gave them a clue. She had the ship she arrived in scrapped for usable parts, which she then sold. Ever since then she'd been working hard, paying off her debts. She did odd mechanic jobs, repairing air and water purifiers for the random customer, and fixing the star cruiser engines for Edmond Mclain. He was a hard master, but he was fair. He payed her full and didn't scrimp her on her overtime.

Ed McLain had avoided talking to Abigail Lee about her background; he knew when a human being was broken and he had no intention of reopening old wounds that were obviously there and lurking beneath the surface of that pale skin. He merely asked the best of his workers and there was no trouble. And he made sure there was indeed no trouble in his hangar.

Speaking of which, a certain group of bulls needed herding. Ed banged on the door with his fist. "Move along ye great louts! Ye gonna stay, ye gonna work? Ye wanna work s'more?"

The group stared at him a moment, then began to disperse heading for the mess hall in murmuring groups. Soon the hanger was relatively quiet.

Ed watched Abigail turn back to the burned out engine of the spaceship she was working on. She shoved up the sleeves of her baggy plain white Company shirt, pulled a wrench from the back pocket of her overalls, and stuck her head into the engine compartment. Soon, clanking and tinkering noises filled the now empty hanger. Ed stood there for a moment before shaking his head and heading to the mess hall himself. She was a grown woman and didn't need anyone to try to play daddy for her. Abigail Lee would eat when she had a mind to, and the crowded mess was a proven place she liked to avoid. Without a second thought to the matter, he let the heavy steel door to the ship repair hanger clang shut behind him. The hanger was quiet save for the sounds of the girl's work on the engine.

After a moment Carolyn Fry poked her head out from the engine compartment and looked around. The hanger was silent and devoid of human life. Finally. She sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her arm, leaving a grease spot in exchange for sweat. Blessed peace, the best part of the day. She looked down at the engine she was attempting to repair. She honestly didn't know why she was still bothering with it. The damn thing was fried. Without new parts, this junk heap wouldn't make it two feet off of the ground. She'd put in an order for the parts, she might as well call it a day. She closed the hatch on the engine compartment, carefully locked her tools away, and left the hanger.

She slowly wandered the metal halls of the station, the silence only broken by scratchy messages over the PA system. It did not take her long to reach the lift that would take her to the workers' quarters. Her set of rooms was relatively small, but as she opened the door and stepped into the room she breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn't much, and it wasn't exactly home, but it was the place she came back to each night, and where she soothed the hurts from the day.

Carolyn shut her door and dropped her room keys on the table in the kitchen. She then filled a pot with milk and set it on simmer. She traipsed off to her bathroom to take a long awaited shower. Carolyn stood in her room looking around for a moment. She stripped, dropping her dirty clothes to the floor with an uncaring plop, and stepped into the shower. She turned the hot water on full blast and immersed herself in it's clean perfection, disregarding the fact that it was merely cleansed recycled water from the space station's filters. A hot shower was a hot shower, and it helped more than anything to fix the beating that the day had given her.

Unwittingly, she found that her thoughts drifted back to the planet.

Against her will, they did that a lot. The planet haunted her. She still woke up drenched in sweat and shaking from nightmares.

She remembered everything.

The overwhelming darkness, the macabre singing of the creatures. The smell of sweat, blood, mud, and death. The terror, and then the brief comfort and belonging of being held desperately by another human being as they both clung stubbornly to life attempting to make it to safety. When she closed her eyes, she could still hear him, smell him, and feel him. It had been a moment of bliss in the darkness, safety in the eye of the terribly storm. Then came the sickeningly sweet pain in her lower back. He'd _stabbed_ her. What else could it have been? She had quite trying to heave him to his feet and instead looked him in the eye, surprised.

She'd expected to see triumph and an I-told-you-not-to-trust-me expression on his face. Instead she saw a myriad of expressions on his face, none of the what she expected to see. She saw surprise, disbelief, sadness, anger, and...love?

No! That damn convict did not love, not for her. She banged her forehead repeatedly against the cool tiles on the shower walls. No, she was not going there and dealing with that unopened back of worms, it was just not possible. He would not feel anything for her, he was a bloody dangerous murdering convict and her feelings had died on the planet. He hadn't come back for her. He_ left _her. Left her alone to die in that hellish place.

Carolyn finished with her shower, dried off, and dropped into bed like a sack of potatoes.

Visions of monsters, darkness, and glowing silver eyes haunting her dreams.

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A few hours away from the space station, a small spacecraft with a twisted, smooth, and elongated plant like shape dropped from hyperspace and made its way towards the space station. The ship's computer scanned the Grolier Classic, found the station to have followed its search parameters, then issued a grating alarm to alert its cargo to the arrival of their destination. Footsteps disturbed the musty fog of the ship's heavy atmosphere and the mist roiled about the two figures that had appeared on their bridge to watch the human space station grow larger in their view screen.

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_To be continued..._


	3. Visitors

**Author's Note**: _Here we go again, and I'm cleaning up still._

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Pitch Black, the Predators, or the Egyptian god Anubis. Though I wish I did. Tis a harsh cruel world. And yes, I named my dog Anubis character thing Attila, I have no shame._

**Song for the Chapter: **_Rapture by Hurt_

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**Visitors**

_III_

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Carolyn Fry looked up from her work as the general hubbub of the station's hanger died down like a power cord had been pulled. Anything that would stop noise like that had to be interesting. She looked around and for a moment couldn't see what the problem was, then noticed where her coworkers eyes were directed and followed their stunned gazes. A ship had glided silently in like some large winged predatory silver bird and settled down on its supports with a quiet hiss.

The Grolier Classic was a bit of a hot spot for adventurers, explorers, bounty hunters, treasure hunters settlers etc, both alien and human alike. Most sentient forms of alien life coexisted pleasantly with people, bartering and trading, fighting and arguing with the best of them. When humanity had crawled from their doomed planet all those millenniums ago to travel the stars like nomads, they'd made allies of most of the lifeforms that they had encountered.

There were some, though, that proved dangerous.

The _Yautja_, known simply as Predators to the humans they hunted, tended to avoid human civilization. But when they did move in, it was usually for a hunt that ended when one or both combatants were slaughtered. The Predators were legendary for their brutality and their obsession with the hunt. They often came in and left whole colonies a smoking ruin, anyone foolish enough to grab a weapon and challenge them were often killed and lost body parts as trophies. No one was sure where the hell they came from only that when they showed up it was in everyone's best interest to hunker down and look harmless. That didn't always work, but it worked more often than not.

So when a Predator spaceship landed right smack in the middle of the Grolier Classic's hanger, the inhabitants got a little worried.

Carolyn stayed where she was. She'd heard the stories. If the _Yautja_ were here to hunt, it would do no good running from them. They would love that and it would make it fun. Not to mention painful. It was much better to stand one's ground and have a chance at life than to run and be cut down like a dog. The dark hellhole of a planet had taught her that much. Survive at all costs. She gripped the large heavy wrench in her hand like a club. There would always be people who ran and screamed like a herd. They'd be bait for whatever came out of that ship, and would give her a chance to get away.

She gritted her teeth. It was now or never.

A ramp slowly and silently extended itself from the belly of the ship exposing the entrance like the dark yawning maw of a monster. A heavy mist, obligingly creepy, rolled down the ramp way and spilling down the sides like drool for the beast. Two figures sauntered down, tendrils of mist curling about their ankles like playful snakes. Carolyn gulped. One was a Yautja Predator dressed in full armor with the burner on his shoulder up and tracking. The targeting laser swept the room searching for threats. For a moment she felt its tri laser burn into her forehead before jumping to the next target.

Her blue eyes slid to the next figure following the Predator down the ramp. She frowned without thinking, she'd honestly never seen anything like it.

It...it was a-a dog man. Thing. It was certainly man shaped, although it was much taller than any man. Almost as tall as its Predator companion. It had double joined knees though, with the second joint bent backwards away from its counterpart. Apart from the jackal head that rose between its shoulders, its body was sheathed in glossy short blue black fur. It was certainly well dressed though, however odd it looked. Its hips were wrapped in an expensive looking white kilt, and more gold and jewels than Carolyn had ever seen in her life adorned its neck and arms.

She suddenly realized that if the Predator wanted to hunt, he'd have an easier time of it than anyone thought. All the two monsters would have to do would be flaunt the dog thing's bling in the poorer districts of the Grolier Classic and they'd have a full scale riot on their hands. It was more treasure than any one of them had ever seen. The only gold the workers had seen were the gold pieces in the instruments in the spaceships as they conducted power better than anything. The amount of gold the dog creature was sporting was unheard of.

Carolyn gave it five minutes before someone made a try for him and the whole station turned into a bloodbath.

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The two intruders didn't look worried, however. The Predator's burner and tracking laser continued to dance about the hanger, alighting on faces before moving on, and the dog creature was casually spinning a heavy gold double ended spear with heavy lotus shaped blades on either end. They obviously felt they could butcher an army without a problem, and ask for seconds. Having apparently come to a conclusion, both otherworldly creatures strode casually across the hanger to where Gallagher stood. The Predator was silent, his mask an impenetrable surface that gave nothing away, but the dog creature offered a short gentlemanly bow and began to speak.

"Good day, we're in the neighborhood, and we stopped to recharge our engines and have a bit of a rest. You don't mind do you? We won't be long, a few days at the least and I wondered whether you'd have a place to stay." The dog thing's voice had a distinct British accent.

Gallagher blinked and looked startled. A accent and manners of a highborn lord is not what one would expect on a eight foot tall monster. It obviously was taking his mouth a moment to get working, and a vein began to tick in his temple. His face looked distinctly purple.

"Well, I doubt that-" Gallagher stopped, suddenly deciding that it might not be in his best interest to start making waves.

"Well, the leader of this outpost would not want yer kind here, seein' how the relationships are," Gallagher said. Translation: since the Yautja have a tendency to rip human skulls out with the spines attached, you're not likely to expect a warm and fuzzy welcome.

"But," Gallagher finished, "I'm chief mechanic an' Leader has no say in my department. Ye can bunk with one o' my workers."

The dog creature bowed. "Thank you for your generous hospitality."

At this conversation, the workers had all backed away. Lure of gold notwithstanding. They had no desire for two apparent hunters living with them in close quarters. Carolyn was surprised. She would have thought it would have been an ample opportunity for a enterprising thief to try his luck. The two creatures stood there, the Predator motionless and completely silent but the dog creature looked around with a sort of friendly smile on his fierce face. Of course, when he smiled he also showed a mouth full of sharp white teeth which did nothing to sooth anyone's fears.

After a long silence, Carolyn sighed and stepped forward. "They can stay with me."

The dog's things face brightened, if that was possible, and he stepped forward. "Why thank you Miss!" He bowed low, and offered the back of her had a dry feathered kiss that had her nearly giggling as his whiskers tickled her arm and hand. She was surprised. She hadn't laughed in years. Then again, it was an odd day she decided.

She offered him a trembling smile. For now it looked like things were going well, but she still didn't know what would happen when she got back to her apartment. She had not survived this long just to become a shined skull on some jackass Hunter's trophy wall. She carefully closed up the engine compartment she'd been working on, procrastinating taking her new guests back to the place she called home.

Carolyn slowly put her tools away and led her guests to her small apartments. Her fingers wobbled over the control panel, hesitant to key in her code and let her knew guests know her pass code. Then she blinked and felt retarded. The Predators had invented intergalactic space travel before humans had crawled out of the mud and dirt and domesticated cattle. If he didn't feel like hacking it with his pinkie talon, he'd just blast it open. She opened the door to admit them in. The Predator was still silent and he strode in, seemingly giving his surroundings barely a glance but she knew that he was still scanning all angles looking for possible threats and escape points. But the dog creature trotted in, politely complimenting everything.

The dog creature leaned his spear thing up against the wall, then followed his hostess into the kitchen. Carolyn was unsure of what she should serve them. It was earlier than she usually left work, just before dinner time. She had to feed them something. Meat was obvious, as they both looked like they'd never heard the word 'herbivore' in their lives. Carolyn could quite vividly imagine both creatures tearing viciously into some unsuspecting animal like gluttons but she didn't mention this.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked finally.

The dog presented her with one of his wide smiles from his seat at her kitchen table, showing all his sharp and shiny white teeth. "Yes please, Miss."

Carolyn stared at him, but then decided he was just being polite. He obviously had no idea that the set of chompers that he called his teeth scared the shit out of her every time he opened his mouth. She filled her dented brass kettle and set it on the stove to heat. The Predator, meanwhile, had begun unlacing his armor and had dropped most of his crap and weapons on the table with a loud clunk. He reached up to his mask and unhooked it. The hoses holding it in place came away with a hiss, releasing what passed for his breathing gases into the air. Carolyn found herself watching in morbid fascination. She'd heard stories of Predators, sure, but had never actually seen one. In every story though, they were always butt ass ugly.

The mask came away and she stifled a gasp. He was _hideous_.

The Predator looked at her with his sharp golden eyes and flared his mandibles with a little roar. Carolyn jumped, but then decided that he was just messing with her. That's what she would do if she had a face like that anyway. He probably thought that she wasn't all that hot to look at either. She laughed. After that, it became more comfortable. Carolyn found some steak in her crisper that the Predator tore into with relish though it made her a little sick to watch him go at it. But the dog thing settled for tea, a ham sandwich, and a pickle. He was also a very dainty eater unlike his companion who had covered half the table with blood splatters and filled the room with satisfied carnivorous tearing, ripping, and sucking sounds.

Finally when they'd both finished, and Carolyn was wiping up from the Predator's messy meal, the dog creature poured himself a second cup of tea and leaned back in his chair.

"My name is Attila and my friend here is Ra-T'serk. I would greatly desire to know the name of our generous host."

Abigail Lee was on the tip of her tongue, but it occurred to her that Attila was not the sort of person one could lie to and get away with it. He was sitting there calmly with a knowing smile on his face. It struck Carolyn then that although this creature before her was big, strong, and young looking, he also gave off an air of being very, very old. She wondered where he was from suddenly.

"My name is Carolyn Fry," she whispered finally.

It felt odd. She had called herself Abigail Lee for five long years now, the name Carolyn Fry now felt odd on her tongue.

Attila studied her thoughtfully, his gaze kind. The Predator's large fierce head swung around to look at her too. They both watched her and Carolyn shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their stares. She felt as though she were on display and being judged, though what she'd failed at she didn't know. The Predator, Ra, turned to Attila. He let loose a long clicking growl that ended in a chittering purr. Then he looked back at her and cocked his head.

Attila took a sip of tea. "Where did you get the scars on your back, and how did you lose your arm?"

Carolyn choked. They certainly didn't beat around the bush.

The loss of her left arm was something Carolyn had never told anyone. It was certainly the heftiest medical bill she'd had to deal with. When she'd come to Grolier Classic II, her left arm had been horribly mangled. She knew in the last few days on the planet that its use was continually deteriorating and that she was gradually losing the ability to move it...but she'd thought that it would have been able to be fixed. It hadn't been so. The doctors had taken one look at it and had to cut it off just below the shoulder. They had had her fitting with a prototype mechanical replacement arm, one much stronger and durable than a real arm cloned from her own DNA. At Carolyn's request, they'd kept this a secret. It wasn't like she'd be able to pay for the more expensive organic flesh and bone arm anyway.

She shook herself from her thoughts and found that her guests were still staring at her. She sighed.

Carolyn soon found herself spilling out her guts as the story of the Hunter-Gratzner, the crash, Jack, Owens, Johns, Zeke, Shazza, Imam, and Riddick filled the silence. Attila and Ra listened in silence. She described the various problems the shipwrecked crew ran into, Johns and his drug habit, hunting Riddick, and going into that hole and having something try to drag her back into it. She talked in a monotonous and carefully measured tone about the terror that came with the night: Johns betrayal, and the slow death of each and every one of her companions, save three. And then they'd left her. Left her to the mercy of the darkness.

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After a long while, Attila rose slowly. He and Ra spoke with each other quietly in the Predator's clicking and growling language, before Attila turned back to look at her.

"I am very sorry. I have seen much death and grieving in my life, but I have experienced nothing like what you have recounted. I admire your courage and perseverance and I have an offer to make you. We will pay the rest of your debts, and you will accompany us on our endeavors. Ra could use a copilot and I extra help in the engine room, and you have admirable skills in either area. And if we are attacked, a port gunner could be useful. In return for your services, we will care for you as best we can," Attila said.

Carolyn sat there, frozen. She'd dreamed of leaving Grolier Classic, and finding a future for herself somewhere, but she had not known where or how to go about it. She looked up at Attila and Ra. The were both watching her. She nodded.

Carolyn held out her hand. "I accept your offer."

Attila smiled and shook it. "We shall leave in the morning. We'll give you an hour to set your affairs in order, and then we'll take you to the ship."

Carolyn smiled back. It was a start, one that she would welcome with open arms. The future with Attila and Ra might not be bright and sparkly, but it certainly looked promising. And it was most definitely better than rotting on the space station for the rest of her life. Her debts would have had her there until she was eighty. Yes, for Carolyn Fry, things were finally looking up. Or at least looking interesting.

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_To be continued..._


	4. Furya

**Author's Note: ** _I listened to a lot of Lady Gaga and Pink while writing this, as well as Aqua. Probably not what y'all envision for Carolyn Fry but it's what does it for me. For Riddick I listen to a loooot of Puddle of Mudd and Drowning Pool._

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing._

**Song for the Chapter:**_ Spaceship by Puddle of Mudd_

_._

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**Furya**

_IV_

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Carolyn watched the Grolier Classic II fall away. It was funny, that station had been her refuge for five years of her life, for the entirety of her seclusion from the horrors she'd experienced on the dark planet and now she was watching it get smaller and smaller, probably never to see it again. It was an almost nostalgic moment for her, really.

Soon, all that was visible through the ship's slanted view ports were thousands of glittering and twinkling stars. After seeing metal walls for five years, Carolyn drank in the sight of the stars like she was physically starved of them. Without realizing it, hours slid by with her forehead and nose pressed against the reinforced glass like material, watching the stars twinkle and dance like miniature pin pricks in a backdrop of black velvet.

A snarl from Attila had her looking over at her new coworkers. Ra was at the bridge poking at the controls while Attila was engaged in a very violent and profane holographic chess game with the ship's computer. The silence of space did not seem to press on them, and they were at peace with the loneliness. Attila certainly filled it with a lot of noise anyway. The man may have been polite, but it appeared that when he played chess be became the snarling and evil monster that he looked like he should be. She smiled slightly, that was alright with her. It was a topsy turvy peace that she had been searching for a long, long time.

She grinned wider as Attila made a choking snarling noise when the computer's Queen annihilated his Bishop with a chainsaw. That was the interesting part of the game. The pieces never died the same way twice. Carolyn watched Attila retaliate by putting the King in check with a rather dastardly knight armed with a rototiller and a spoon. But only to have the Queen bash his brains out with a mallet. Attila howled in frustration, slamming his clenched elongated fingers onto the board in a rage. Carolyn laughed a little in spite of herself before turning to look back out the window.

The shining light of the stars reminded her of a pair of similar silver orbs that had shone out of the darkness at her. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the cool reinforced glass. She needed to get his stupid eyes out of her head

She was suddenly so, so incredibly tired. She slipped down the wall and drifted off into a restless sleep. Silver eyes haunted her dreams and a deep and rough voice chased her through her nightmares.

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It was sometime later that she felt Ra shaking her roughly awake. Carolyn grunted and wiped at the bit of drool that had made an escape down the side of her face. She poked at her numb cheek and decided that sleeping against walls was not the most genius plan in the books. She stumbled to the bridge. Attila was at the controls now, and the surface of a planet rapidly loomed bigger in the ship's stern view ports. Carolyn came to stand beside Ra, just behind Attila. All three silently watched the planet grow steadily closer. Carolyn shuddered. It reminded her of the accursed planet that she'd struggled off of seven years ago. Well, not surprising really, this was the first planet she'd been near _since_ the dark planet.

Carolyn felt herself shuddering along with the ship as shot through the atmosphere, and she felt that she might come to bits on the spot. She had not been planet-side in five years, and she suddenly did not want to be there in that moment. Too many memories, faces, and helpless screams.

The ship dropped into the planet's clear atmosphere and skimmed above the barren surface. The wind rattled against the ship and the sun's light was a cold burning fire. It was very bleak, and every thing was an ugly grayish orange. The massive sun hung low in the sky and shone with a tired red light. The sun was surprisingly close, and it had expanded into this planet's solar system. It must be on its last legs of life. Carolyn gave it at most another million years, and then this system would be toast in a massive supernova.

"It's dead," Carolyn whispered, "Everything's dead. The planet, the sun..."

Attila glanced back at her. "Yes, the planet's surface is littered with the bodies of its people, and the shells of the lives who lived here. But the planet Furya still clings to life. One just has to know where to look."

They were flying straight at a wide plateau. The cliff top looked like a pale pancake above the wind blasted surface of the planet. Attila eased up on the thrusters and the ship settled on top of the flat area. The ship shuddered as it started shutting down and Ra's long taloned fingers flew over the controls, coaxing the ship into doing its thing properly. Carolyn felt the engines slowing down as the ship settled down. They waited. Soon all was still and quiet save for the cold wind blowing dust and small pebbles here and there, rattling against the cold metal walls of the ship.

Carolyn took a deep breath. It was cool. She could handle this. This was nothing. It was just a planet. It wasn't _the_ planet..

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Suddenly the ship lurched drunkenly.

At first, Carolyn could not fathom what was happening. Then she realized that the ship was slowly sinking into the ground. Carolyn gripped the back of Attila's seat. Her knuckles turned white and cold sweat ran down her spine. The deep, wide scars on her back created little twisting rivulets of sweat. She'd never again since the dark planet been able to handle dark enclosed spaces. They brought memories of hiding like an animal, covered in mud to hide her scent, expecting death at every waking moment. And now, going into the ground was unbearable.

She closed her eyes and took deep calming breaths. She was not going to cry. She was not going to faint. It was okay, they couldn't get her. The planet couldn't get her and it was all over. It was okay, it was okay. Breath. There were no monsters in the dark. Well, there were two monsters in the dark but one was too busy with a holographic chess game to even think about eating her, and the other one clearly felt she wasn't worth his time.

She gasped, her chest shuddering.

She saw, out of the corner of her eye, Ra turn his head towards her. She could hear a soft whirr come from his helmet and a red laser scanned her body. She knew his helmet showed him the cold sweat, the trembling, the quickened breathing and the fast beating heart. Tell tale signs of fear. It made her embarrassed and uncomfortable. Ra didn't know why, but he did know that she was scared shitless.

Ra jerked a mottled shoulder in her direction while he clicked and chattered something to Attila, who clicked and chattered reproachfully back. Her shoulders hunched in shame. She had no idea what exactly they were saying but she did know that the subject was her and her stupid scaredy ass. Ra chittered at her, then reached over and shook her shoulder, clearly telling her to man up and deal. She didn't know why but she wanted to sob. The Universe's greatest hunter clearly thought she was nancy pants who could barely handle a little darkness. Why was the truth always nasty and always hurt?

All the while the ship was steadily sinking and all around them it was pitch black. After what seemed like an eternity to Carolyn, the ship came to a shuddering halt. Carolyn waited, her whole body taught with tension.

'_This is not like the last time_,' she silently scolded herself, '_Get a grip girl, and man up_.'

Attila waited a moment before fully shutting the ship down, opening the main doors in the aft end of the shift, and lowering the ramp. Carolyn grabbed the leather satchel that held a few of her tools and a engine repair manual or two that she'd managed to hoard and slung it over her shoulder. She bravely followed her companions down the ramp and into the darkness. From the way their steps echoed, Carolyn gathered that the dark room, or cave rather, that they were in was massive. Carolyn kept turning around and around, attempting to see anything through the velvety blackness. Her two companions were walking calmly straight away from the ship.

Carolyn followed them blindly.

It was all very well for them. Attila's eyes glowed blue and Ra's mask was whirring slightly. They had no trouble seeing in this darkness. Carolyn found herself resisting the urge to put out her hand to insure that she would not run into anything. She didn't only for the fear that she might accidentally grab something she didn't want too, and she had no desire to end up on Ra's trophy wall just because she'd accidentally grabbed his ass. Though she wondered what he'd say when he and his Predator buddies actually got around to ooing and ahing over their skull collections.

_'What'd you do for that one? Human spec ops sniper? Company assassin?'_

_'Nah that chick grabbed my butt thinking it was a door handle in the dark'_

Oh yeah, that would fly.

They'd only been walking for a minute or so when a soft golden glow illuminated a pair of steel doors just a head taller than Attila at the far end of the hanger. Carolyn's light starved eyes drank in the light greedily and she fought the urge to run for the comfort of the light like a little girl.

One step in front of the other, keep going you can do it. Nothing is going to get you.

They crossed the room quickly, and the double doors opened on silent hinges. The doors were very, very thick and the shiny metal surface was completely smooth. There was no handle and no key pad, and she couldn't see any way that they fastened without getting a closer look. Carolyn fought the itch in her fingers to grab her tools and start poking at the weird door. As they walked through, the twisted filament spires that passed as lamps on either side of the doors extinguished themselves. Carolyn glanced forlornly back at the shadow of the ship cloaked in impenetrable before walking through.

The world they entered was a far different world from which they had come, or any that Carolyn had ever seen.

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_To be continued..._


	5. Smugglers

**Author's Note:** _Here we go again._

**Disclaimer: **_I have borrowed things. I own nothing._

**Song For the Chapter:**_ Alejandro - Lady Gaga_

_._

_._

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**Smugglers**

_V_

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Carolyn couldn't pick her jaw up off of the floor. The moment they walked through the door she was staring so bad she wondered if her face would ever be able to fit back together properly. The room they'd entered was massive, and it reminded her just like a giant bee hive. It was a wide open space and the single room they were in was a vertical cylinder larger than any space hanger she'd ever been in. She could not see how far it extended either way, just leaning over the edge of the walkway gave her a sense of vertigo. Carolyn swallowed. If she fell, she'd be falling a long, long time.

There were hundreds of levels, each one filled with little alcoves and nooks, for different purposes. It was teeming with life. People yelling and laughing, stuff being bought and sold, classes being taught. Carolyn found herself dodging herds of giggling children with mothers chasing after, and vendors shouting their wares. Ra and Attila seemed to have no trouble blending in, for some reason the giant dog monster and the Yautja Hunter faded right in to the back drop.

It was almost funny. Of all the places her subconscious would have placed them, it wouldn't have been a place like this.

The thing that struck her the most though, was the fact that there plants everywhere. It seemed as though someone had planted or potted a plant wherever it could have been managed. There were thick green vines weaving, winding, and twisting their way through every nook and cranny. Up stairwells and over railings and balconies. Trees grew out of holes in the floor, from other levels. They spread their leafy branches over the people below them. Some were even being used as bridges when crossing gaps between levels.

There were flowers everywhere. They seemed to pop up all over the place. Hanging baskets full of nasturtiums, lilies and orchids, hyacinths, and flowers that she didn't even have a name for. Flower that she'd only seen on the holo vids of those stupid deep space adventure shows. Plants were everywhere, the heady scent of the thousands and thousands of flowers was overwhelming.

Carolyn had no idea how deep within Furya they'd gone, but she knew that the heat in the air was not generated by any human or alien device. They must be near the core of the planet. The slow moving core was not strong enough to protect its surface from radiation from the sun, or generate enough gravity to be comfortable, but it was still warm. The warmth was in the very rocks. Well, it probably should have been expected. The planet's surface was freezing and the solar system was on the edge of having its sun go super nova, it only stood to reason that Furya would be shutting down as well.

She glanced around again, unable to quit drinking in the sights. One would have never been able to tell though, looking around at the place. Life was everywhere, just under the surface of the planet. Carolyn took off the heavy flak jacket she was wearing over her white tank top and tied it around her waist. It was too hot for clothes, she only wished she could shed more, though she didn't think a grown woman running around in her skivvies would go over well. She wiped her hands on her worn jeans; the heat was already getting to her.

.

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Attila and Ra had obviously adjusted their pace for her gawking, and they trailed along, every now and then checking to be sure that she was still following. Their concern touched her and she scrambled to keep up with them. She didn't know what she'd done to deserve this adventure, but she was eternally grateful they'd decided to take her with them. They did seem to know just where they were going, they went plunging into the crowd of people milling around making a beeline towards the main central spire. They meandered slowly along, obviously letting her look around, so Carolyn took this chance to inconspicuously study the people around her. There were aliens and humans alike, some species she'd never even seen before.

It was like a zoo. A people zoo.

But most of the humans, she noticed, seemed to be similar in features. Carolyn noticed that it seemed to either be culture or a fad to wear their hair up in dreads or tiny braids, or just plain braids. She felt her hand unconsciously padding her short blond hair. She had never been one to follow a crowd, but to be the only chick with short hair around for what seemed to be miles was another thing entirely. Not to mention that these people were physical gods. She was in shape, sure, but people around her were almost perfect. Well, they were scarred and battered like the next joe but they were taller and stronger than most people. That wasn't odd in itself, it was just weird having a large concentration of physically fit, abnormally huge individuals running around. They had caramel colored skin and brown eyes and they moved with a grace that reminded her of marshal artists. Carolyn found herself wishing she'd not taken off her jacket, exposing her plain pale skin and gross looking scars in the midst of these super humans with abnormally good skin.

She rubbed her arms, feeling exposed and a little silly. It was like the holo vid The Stepford Wives, but only here it was The Stepford Commandos.

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Carolyn was snapped from her little day dream when she found that Attila and Ra had turned from what seemed to be the main highway to a small little glass elevator off to the side. She stared at what was essentially a tiny little glass box. Ugh. They _so_ did not want her to try to squeeze in there. Attila and Ra stepped in the moment the doors hissed open. They looked at her. Blast, it didn't look like she was going to get a choice. She hurriedly stepped in after them. The little elevator's engine started up with a soft hum and they shot upward at a rapid pace. Carolyn began to subtly crane her head, trying to see the source of the elevator's power. When Attila caught her gaze and she realized she'd been made, she stuck her tongue out at him.

Why not? She'd made a living the past five years as a mechanic, and the elevator was releasing a lot of power for such a small engine. She wanted to see how it worked.

After a moment, a soft chirping noise that came from the ceiling caught her attention. Her heart just about jumped out of her face. Two enormous pale yellow eyes four inches from her face were watching her closely amidst the vines and leaves on the ceiling. Not knowing what to make of the situation, Carolyn just stared right back. She figured if the creature had been dangerous, Attila would have said something or Ra would have tried to kill it. The eyes blinked slowly. Then the peculiar looking creature to whom the eyes belonged climbed down a hanging creeper and dropped onto Carolyn's head.

Ra made an irritated groaning growling noise. Attila chuckled. "The Furyians call them Chibbits, they're useful if they like you, but they can also be terribly annoying. Keep it away from Ra, he'll try to eat it. He doesn't like them much."

Carolyn nodded wordlessly. She was too preoccupied with keeping the squirming creature in her arms and out of Ra's ravenous gaze. She didn't know why he wanted to eat it, it was adorable. It looked to be some sort of a mutant mash up between a raccoon, a rabbit, a monkey, and a chipmunk. It was incredibly fat with a warm gray body, a thick bushy tail with black rings that flared out like angry caterpillars. Its abnormally long ears constantly twitched this way and that, and its agile and clever hands kept trying to pluck at her hair. She laughed. She couldn't help it, it was so cute! At her laugh it turned its huge yellow eyes on her and butted up against her, looking for a scratch or a snack.

She couldn't stop laughing.

Finally getting comfortable perched on her shoulder, it looked up at her and chattered like a squirrel ending in a long drawn out hiss. On second thought, she could see why Ra might find it annoying. On the other hand, its cuteness factor made up in leaps and bounds for the odd noises it insisted on making. Carolyn awkwardly stroked its glossy gray fur in an attempt to quiet it. She could see why Ra didn't like them, the chattering was already threatening to get on her nerves.

Attila chuckled.

Through a great deal of scratching behind the ears, Carolyn finally got the chibbit thing calmed down and its large eyes had slid closed. She continued stroking its fur. It was annoying, yes, but oddly comforting. And she hadn't felt comforted since the planet. She stuck her nose in the chibbit's fur and felt the small body moving in sleep paper thin skin moving over the tiny rib cadge as it breathed in and out. A clicking purr from across the elevator had her looking up. Ra was still watching it, she knew, with a hungry gaze. The small creature was indeed annoying but Carolyn felt that was not enough to merit a meal for a hungry Yautja.

Besides, it was so freaking cute.

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All the while the elevator went steadily upward without stopping its breakneck pace. As they rattled along, Attila began to take up a commentary of the various levels, describing purposes and so forth, as well as escapades that he'd gotten into and gossip. Carolyn was surprised, as she would not have pegged him for a drama queen. Drama queen he was though, as he seemed to have a personal hand in almost every ridiculous story he mentioned.

"-and then, she had her baby, but they were all just _shocked_ because it was normal looking. I told them, I _told_ them! What'd they think she'd have, _puppies_? Honestly."

Carolyn choked.

It was quiet for a moment. "So how did...all this get like this?" Carolyn asked, "When I became a pilot and made my first run to New Mecca, this wasn't here, as far as I recall."

Attila was silent for a moment, clearly working out how best to word his tale.

"How much do you know about the Necromongers?"

"When I was a pilot for the Company, they weren't that big a deal," Carolyn said carefully, "I mean yeah, they'd ghost planets on the outskirts of Company space...but mostly they left people alone. I don't know all that much about them."

Attila opened his mouth, glanced at Ra standing silent and impervious off in the corner, then sighed. Once he began to talk, Carolyn found herself frozen as she listened. What had seemed to be a frivolous problem, sure it was a problem, but not something people were actively afraid of. There had always been the Company running things, watching people, taking care of its own. During her stay on the dark planet, and then during her self imposed five year hiatus on the Grolier Classic II, it seemed that the Necromongers had stepped up their game to become an actual threat. Attila sounded like he was giving a history lesson, though it was hardly a history lesson even with the cold, detached way the story was delivered.

The Necromongers' numbers had exploded with the amount of 'converts' that they had taken over the years and their army had grown to epic proportions, grown to where the Company could no longer contend with them. The Company had fallen just under a year ago, and the Necromongers were now the new rulers of the galaxy.

Carolyn was shocked. The world she'd known all her life was no more. She'd come back from exile to literally find everything she'd ever known ripped out from underneath her.

Attila hesitated a moment before moving on the subject of Furya's tragic past. What started the catalyst of the war. The last leader of the Necromongers had felt threatened by some kind of prophesy involving his death at the hand of a Furyan, and so he'd slaughtered the entire Furyan population, anyone that he could get his hands on. Almost an entire population butchered over night.

"So," Attila finished, "the people you see here are all that is left of Furya's people, that weren't scattered to the ends of the galaxy."

He waved a graceful dark taloned hand at the good looking commandos milling around with the rest of the inhabitants. For some reason, Carolyn was reminded of the damn convict who'd stabbed her in the and left her to die. He'd moved with that same confidant predatory grace too. She shook her head. She'd been telling herself for five years to get over him, and dammit she _would_ get him and his stupid eyes out of her head if it was the last thing she did.

Attila growled low in his throat, "We _will_ drive them out of the galaxy, them and the dark god they serve."

His voice seemed to carry almost an echo, and for some reason Carolyn could taste sand at the back of her throat and the room they were in smelled distinctly of incense. There was a shadow around Attila that had most certainly not been there before. His dark eyes burned and he stared at something she could not see, lost in a world she could not fathom.

"_The Necromongers know nothing of death_," he whispered, "_they treat it like a play thing, a puppy, and the sons of the kheft will burn when Ma'at judges them Sobek claims them for its own._"

Carolyn was frightened. There was nothing of the playful genteel dog creature with an odd accent left anymore, but an ancient almost deity like creature standing across from her in the lift. She glanced down. Sand boiled about her feet and it was hot and dry. His voice had a distinct echo to it now, and it was changed, almost like he were speaking in a dead language that she could somehow understand. She gasped, her mouth drying out. What the hell _was_ Attila?

.

.

She was frightened until Ra reached over and calmly pulled on Attila's tail. Hard. The Predator's helmet whirred.

"_Down boy_," a recorded heavy Australian accent crackled from the Predator's computer.

Attila whirled at him, his eyes burning and for a moment Carolyn was afraid they were going to go at it. Then Attila almost seemed to deflate, and he was the familiar good old boy once again that cracked dirty jokes, played chess with computers, and drank copious amounts of tea.

Attila glanced at her. "Sorry."

Carolyn nervously licked her lips and nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. Now that the danger was over, the chibbit in her arms unfroze and began to squirm violently, obviously wanting to get away from the creature that it had grossly misjudged as harmless. It squeaked incessantly, climbed up out of her arms and onto her shoulders where it perched precariously before attempting to jump from her shoulders back into the leaves at the ceiling. Carolyn wasn't exactly sure how the ceiling would be safer if either Attila or Ra decided that they needed a murder spree, but she did her best to get out of the creature's way.

It was certainly panicking like a mad rodent.

The chibbit brushed up against Carolyn's neck in its spastic escape attempt and one of the short blond curls at the nape of her neck caught in the chain that served as the chibbit's collar. She yelled, putting up a hand to try to halt the creatures flight but that only seemed to make things worse. The chibbit pulled and yanked, desperately trying to free itself and the two monsters that it perceived as dangerous. Carolyn's holding it back only served to panic it further. With a painful rip the chibbit broke free and disappeared into the foliage, taking Carolyn's blond curl with it. Carolyn rubbed the back of her neck furiously, her skin red and burning.

"That hurt!" she hissed, glaring up at the chibbit hiding in the leafy ceiling; the chibbit only chattered at her.

"Holy shit," she muttered, massaging her aching skin, "Ow."

She glared at the chattering rodent, promising a painful death in muttered tones if she ever got her hands on it again. Honestly, ripping out her hair because it couldn't handle a little tension. The chibbit was spared for the moment when the elevator dinged quietly as it finally came to a halt. The doors slid open silently to reveal a level reminiscent of a market place. The group stepped from the elevator into the crowded area.

Carolyn followed Attila and Ra through the market, drinking in the fascinating sights and smells. People and aliens alike were shouting, talking, and laughing as they called out the crap they were selling. If there was any tension at all lingering from the elevator, the chaos of the market stripped it away. Carolyn found herself pressed up against Attila and Ra from the sheer force of the crowd. She grinned. For some reason, this was _awesome_. If she ever retired, this is where she was coming. At the very least she could spend her days people watching.

They made a beeline for a small pub tucked into a nook between a giant fruit stall and an antique store, and took a seat outside where they'd have a good vantage point of the street. Within seconds, a fuchsia colored waiter dressed smartly in a black uniform glided over to their table. He blinked his large brown eyes and in a slow melancholy voice asked them what they would like. Carolyn blinked before looking round at her companions.

Attila shrugged. "You can have what you like, it's on our contact."

Carolyn nodded and turned to the waiter and ordered a beer.

Attila ordered a bourbon, and Ra had something that looked like congealing blood in a glass and smelled so strong that Carolyn wondered if she'd be able to get drunk by just sniffing the stuff. It certainly smelled like it anyway. She leaned as far away from him as she could. She could already feel her brains scrambling. They sat quietly sipping their drinks and watching the street. After a while of swilling her drink around her glass, Carolyn pushed back her chair and turned to Attila and Ra. Her curiosity could no longer take it.

"So, what's this contact?" she asked.

Attila looked at her. "Might as well be honest with you, since you're going to be with us for a while. There's a war going on between the Necromongers and the Resistance. We're on the side of the Resistance, obviously. We're smugglers for the Furyians. We go out and trade under the noses of the Necromongers. Help those who've had their planets wasted. Anyone whose been 'converted' by the Necromongers against their will, we do our best to bring them back and take care of them until we can steal their chip from the mother ship."

Carolyn cocked her head to one side, not quite understanding. "Chip?"

Attila leaned forward. "See, when the Necromongers 'convert' someone they want that they can't outright brainwash, they take their brain, scan it onto a computer chip and store it, before putting a bug in the person's brain that'll delete everything so the Necromongers can put in anything they want. Now, we've had a couple of cases where people have fought the bug and killed it off. But those are very few indeed. I've only met two of the five known."

Carolyn frowned, trying to get it. "That's confusing. They do this with everybody?"

Attila shook his head. "No, just the important ones. But we still do everything we can to try to save people and get them out before they're taken."

"What do you do?"

"We contract out to the Furyans and the Resistance for our...services. Basically hijack a ship, steal the chips of whomever important person they need and create as much havoc as possilbe."

"But, how can you win? You can't save everyone, and they're going to keep ghosting planets, thousands of people," Carolyn said.

Attila nodded, "I know. We're doing what we can to hold the Necromongers off. The Resistance Army isn't ready yet, and if they hit us now we're done. All we can do is be annoying, and hope they don't figure out the larger plan."

"How long have you been doing this?"

Attila tapped a long black claw on the table. "I haven't been doing it long, but but Ra here has. One of the best in the business."

"Because he's a Predator. I didn't think they cared much for human politics," Carolyn murmured, glancing at the stoic Hunter seated next to her.

Attila showed her his teeth in a rather macabre grin. "Stealth and sneaking are their business. Besides, Necromongers are like the new cool thing to them. If it runs and takes them longer than two minutes to kill, they're on it like white on rice."

It was quiet for a moment as Carolyn digested this. She could see why a war like this would be attractive to a Predator like Ra anyway. The Necromongers were strong an well trained and would make good hunting targets. Not to mention the Necromongers were probably ruining Predator hunting grounds. Apparently the Predators had no trouble helping the underdogs, as the Necromongers were a threat to their status as the galaxy's 'top of the food chain'.

.

Carolyn looked up from her beer when a Furyian woman strode purposefully up to them, pulled back a chair, and sat opposite Attila. The giant wasted no time with pleasantries, and instead began a rapid fire conversation with Attila that had Carolyn's head spinning. She slipped her jacket on and slowly fastened it, watching the woman's wild jazz hands gestures. She made sure her beer was safe on her end of the table. If she wasn't careful, she would end up wearing it.

The woman leaned forward, finally resting her elbows on the table top. "We've finished loading your ship. The cargo's sealed and ready. You'll be paid 1.5 grand for the drop job and another two when you get back, as agreed."

Attila and Ra glanced at each other, nodded, and stood. Carolyn and the woman followed suit. They all shook hands, or rather Attila and the woman shook hands while Ra stood there and Carolyn swallowed the remainder of her drink. The woman slapped down the payment for their drinks before melting back into the crowd. The trio made for the elevator once again.

In the elevator, the chibbit made a reappearance. Carolyn glared at it, still sore about the abuse on her neck. It crawled down a stray vine and dropped onto Carolyn's shoulder, rubbing its small face against her cheek in an attempt to make up. She groaned, irritated at the fact that its cuteness was blatantly overcoming her anger, but reached up to pet it anyway. The little creature was addicting like that. The chibbit butted its head against her cheek in an effort to gain more enthusiastic petting. Carolyn relented and scratched behind its huge long ears.

When the elevator dinged signifying the arrival at their destination and they stepped out, the chibbit remained on Carolyn's shoulder. She poked it with her finger but it did not move.

"Won't it be missed?" she asked.

"I doubt it. Chibbits go and do what they please, no one really owns them," Attila said.

Carolyn glanced at the chibbit. "Well, I guess you're coming with me then."

It did not take long to reach the ship. Attila and Ra navigated the crowd like pros, easily sliding through the massive throngs of people like eels through water. Carolyn found if she stuck close to them she could travel in their wake with relative ease. The darkness of the cave in which their ship rested was still horrible though, and Carolyn's stomach sank when she found the fear that she'd so easily left behind still waiting in the corners of her mind, waiting to trap her. She swallowed, willing her heart to stay where it was and not sink down into her guts like a lead weight.

She fairly scrambled into the ship after Attila, not waiting to watch Ra key up the ramp but merely went straight to her seat and dropped into it like a rock. She leaned back, closing her eyes. It had been fun and dandy, but she could not wait to get back into space where she belonged. The planet weighed on her and she was eager to get away from it.

Ra poked her in the back of the head as he tromped pass and his helmet spat out a montage of what could only have been his victims' voices,"_Strap in...hyperspace...not fun with...out... straps_."

Carolyn leaned forward eagerly. "You have a hyper drive!"

Only select few could afford hyper drives. The Necromongers obviously used them, but in a Company ruled system only the very rich and powerful had access to ships with a full hyperdrive system. Normal Joe Blows had to make due with a partial hyperdrive, combined with the use of cryo sleep. Using a slower engine along with a cryo-chamber was much cheaper, although no where near as effective or practical.

Attila chuckled. "This ship is an old Hunter scout vessel, made for hopping galaxies. The main reason they designed these would be so they'd have absolutely no trouble finding new and interesting stuff to hunt and kill. Unfortunately this sucker is old," he said slapping the console fondly, "It needs a lot of work. That's one of the reasons we signed you on."

Carolyn shivered. "I've never worked on a hyper drive before."

"You'll get the hang of it. It's not difficult once you know what you're doing."

Carolyn nodded and strapped herself in. She closed her eyes, preferring the darkness behind her closed lids to the darkness that she knew now surrounded her. She took a deep breath, going through her mantra.

"Next stop, Necropolis," Attila muttered, poking at the nav-computer.

Carolyn still caught it. "We're going directly to Necroville? I thought this was some sort of sneak thing."

"They're big buyers," Attila said without looking back, "They're already expecting us."

"What could you have that they could possible want?"

"We give them the virus for the warhead that allows them to waste planets.".

.

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To Be Continued...


	6. Lord Marshall

**Disclaimer: ** _Anything you see that you think you might recognize, I don't own._

**Song for the Chapter:**_ Poker Face by Lady Gaga_

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**Lord Marshal**

_VI_

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"Wait, what?" Carolyn felt like she'd been sucker punched. Either that or she was seriously missing out on a joke or something that had flown straight over her head.

"We give them the virus, and they use it for their planetary warheads," Attila explained, eyes never leaving the nav-computer.

Carolyn blinked, feeling like there was something that she was missing, something important. "The Furyians are willingly giving a deadly toxic ingredient that has the ability to waste _planets_ to the people that destroyed them?"

Ra shook is head and his dark green dreadlocks swayed madly. "_The Necromongers... think they get it from... renegade... Yautja Hunters_."

"So, let me get this straight," Carolyn said slowly, "The Necromongers think they're getting this crap from the Hunters when really they're getting doctored Furyian sludge?"

"Correct."

Carolyn threw back her head and laughed out loud. "Dear god, and this plan actually works?,"she wiped at her eyes, still chuckling, "So what exactly does the Furyan stuff do?"

Attila turned to face her, rested his elbows on his knees and his dog head on his folded knuckles. "It's...complicated. We can't stop them from gassing people without calling attention to who we are and what we're doing, but we can put a drug in it that will give the innocent civilians a chance. Basically all we can do is force the victim planet to like dormant for 50 or 60 years, til the Necromongers kind of forget about them. With all the systems in their control, they only care about the crucial ones. They'll forget about most of their conquests. But by then it will be too late. We should be ready for them."

She was curious about the 'we'. Did he mean the Resistance? Or was this his own personal vendetta he was talking about.

Attila grinned with evident anticipation, showing rows of glistening white fangs. At that moment, Carolyn could see the cold merciless warrior that existed beneath the well spoken exterior. She suddenly did not want to be a Necromonger facing Attila in that moment. She wasn't entirely sure what Attila was, or what exactly his beef was with the Necromongers, but she knew that this creature had set itself against the force that was the Necromongers. She shivered, wondering if her freedom was worth plunging herself smack in the middle of the brewing war.

And she had a feeling that when the war hit, not if, but when, it would be a shit storm that would suck the entire galaxy into the fray.

Attila turned to Ra and they began to jabber away in Ra's native language. Carolyn tuned them out. Like she could speak Predator. Even if she could get her tongue to make the complicated noise, she still didn't think she'd bother trying to learn a language that sounded like a cat on acid. Instead, she grabbed a cracker from a MRE in her pack and began to try to coax the chibbit out from the alcove it was hiding in. It eyed her with blatant mistrust, still not entirely convinced that she wouldn't follow through on the theatric murder she'd promised in retribution for her hair. It eyed the cracker greedily though and food won out. Carolyn absentmindedly scratched behind its ears and the chibbit began to purr like a rusty motor.

Attila turned back towards her. "We're nearly there. Here, put this on before the Necromongers get a lock on the ship and scan us."

He was holding out what looked to be a stainless steel metal ring about a half inch thick and an inch and a half wide. She glanced at her bag, wanting to poke at it with her tools. Carolyn took it. When she touched it, the metal ring separated at on side.

"It goes around your neck," Attila instructed.

Carolyn fastened it around her neck. It clamped on and she felt five stinging sensations at different intervals around her neck. She looked up at Attila questioningly.

"It's a Yautja slave collar," he told her cheerfully,"But don't worry, this one is fake. The real ones have needles that constantly inject the victim with a serum that eats away their brain codes, so then the only thing they think or feel is whatever is programmed in."

"But this one IS fake right?" Carolyn asked, poking at the thing she'd put around her neck and slightly regretting the fact that she'd popped it on without question. Next time she'd read the fine print, if there was any.

"Eh, mostly," Attila said airily, "I've modified it anyway. You need to have the appearance of a slave, one owned by prospective clients I might add, so that the Necromongers will not be inclined to coerce you into their religion. That's the last thing we need."

"Just making sure," she muttered.

"The Necromongers won't know the difference," Attila assured her.

Carolyn said nothing, merely poked at the collar thoughtfully. It did give her a level of protection anyway. No one would look twice at a slave.

.

.

Attila broke the silence. "Now, you may not notice it, but your eyes have acquired a white film over the irises. That's normal, so don't worry," he said, "It'll just be a shock whenever you look in a mirror. Be sure, if anyone speaks directly to you, treat them with polite indifference. Keep a bland monotone."

"Okay, but what exactly are the needles injecting anyway?"

"It'll give you pretty much anything good for your body that its lacking. Vitamins, oxygen for your blood, and it keeps you from getting dehydrated. It will also mask your brain wave images from the dead interrogation machine they've got, as well as shield your free human scent from their half dead bloodhounds."

Carolyn sat back to contemplate this while stroking the chibbit. While she didn't like it, the collar would keep her safe. From what she could tell, the Necromongers were hardcore about their religion. It was join or die. But a mindless slave, they'd never look twice at her. She looked down at the chibbit and scratched behind its long twitching ears.

"Think we can pull this off buddy?" she murmured. It ignored her, fully intent on grooming itself. Carolyn laughed at the way it twisted itself around in odd positions in order to reach areas that should have been physically impossible. It wound itself into a pretzel in order to reach a spot on its back and nearly fell off of her lap.

"_Silence...no noise...We...are here_," Ra's helmet crackled.

The ship dropped silently from the bright blur of hyperspace and immediately upon entering normal space, they were hailed by a cold, crisp, bodiless voice that demanded in a no nonsense tone that they state their business or be destroyed. Attila answered in clipped tones and they were given permission to proceed. Whatever that meant. Carolyn made sure her face was a stoic mask as a dozen Necromonger warships decloaked and emerged into the visible spectrum all around them. She didn't know if it made a difference, but actually seeing the warships made her acutely aware that it was possible for her to spend her life as a Necromatic vegetable.

Carolyn was awed into silence. The Necromonger vessels radiated power and cruelty, and they sat there opposite them like massive birds of prey. She fought the urge to wind her hands nervously. Slaves did not get fits of nervousness.

They made for the largest ship. Its creepy aura far surpassed that of the others and the closer they came to it the smaller they seemed to feel. Carolyn swallowed. She could feel the chibbit shrink in her lap, pressing up against her stomach though it was surprisingly silent. A black opening that was the main hanger yawned open like some great beast's mouth before them. She really, really did not like the food allusions but there was nothing to be done about it. Her subconscious was dead set on seeing her eaten, it seemed. As predicted, scanning lasers shot out from the Necromonger vessel and scanned the ship, searching for potential threats.

Carolyn held her breath, but after a moment they were through and landing in an unused corner in what appeared to be their main hangar bay. Attila set the ship down gently, and all three of them seemed to slump and breath sighs of relief. Carolyn hadn't actually thought that they'd get away with it. But then again, they weren't actually home free. Not yet. This farce was only just beginning.

There were the many sounds of soldiers outside the ship, heavy boots against the metal floor. Attila turned to her and hurriedly shoved Carolyn a long bow and a quiver full of arrows with wicked black points honed to a razor sharp edge. The arrows were hooked so that they would not relinquish their hold on their victim so easily once they'd found a target. She swallowed again. She hadn't thought they'd be fighting anyone so soon, but then again she supposed she'd better be ready for anything.

Carolyn hefted it. "What good is this going be up against all that?"

"Can you shoot?" he asked tersely, ignoring her.

Carolyn nodded. A long time ago, on a dark planet, a man named Paris had taught her archery on an old Anglo Saxon long bow. In order to defend herself and others against an escaped convict named Riddick. Oh yes, she remembered. She remembered very well.

The chibbit scooted over on her shoulder so she could sling on the quiver, so that the belt was resting comfortably across her chest and the carrying part in its place at her back, while the bow went over the other shoulder. She took a deep breath, carefully fixing her face into a suitably black expression.

"_Ready_?" Ra asked.

No. But she was as ready as she was going to get. She gave him a curt nod.

In the space of five seconds the Predator had strapped on more armor and concealed more weapons on his person than she'd thought possible. He'd gone from Hunter to Alien Tank in about five seconds. Attila, meanwhile, seemed to have conjured up again whatever it was that gave him that teeth rattling otherworldly aura. Carolyn was almost afraid to look at him. He looked every bit like some ancient and forgotten deity about to clean house.

Both creatures looked forbidding and deadly. The human woman standing between them found herself rather glad that it wasn't she that they were working against, and that they were on her side whatever happened. Well, she wasn't entirely sure they would protect her as they both looked ready to slaughter a small army at the moment, but still. They had shared good times, and if they were about to go out she was glad that she had gotten to live, and she was no longer rotting as a mechanic on some back water space station.

They walked silently to the aft section of the ship and stood before the main doors, and they waited a moment and shared a look before pressing the button to open the main hatch and extend the ramp. Attila and Ra sauntered down the ramp as it extended, looking like they had not a care in the world, that the platoon of soldiers armed to the teeth and waiting for them were a mere nuisance that could be taken care of if they felt like it. Carolyn followed them, trying to keep up but not look like she was trying to keep up, and also doing her best to keep from gawking and looking around.

Well, it could certainly be said the Necromongers were not interior decorators, if they were anything. Everything was steel, stone, and flimsy gray fabric that seemed to be draped over everything.

They stood there a moment, Carolyn waiting nervously and Ra just standing there ignoring everyone and blatantly not caring that the silence was rapidly becoming awkward. Attila fixed the soldiers with a haughty stare and offered them a curt bow.

"Are you going to..take us to your leader, or are we going to have to go looking ourselves," Attila said in a soft, dangerous voice.

A soldier detached himself from the platoon. He stepped up to them, clicked his heels, and bowed with military precision.

"My name is Vaako. I am commander of the Necromonger forces and loyal servant to the Lord Marshal. You will have an audience with his honor shortly. But in the meantime, you will be shown to your rooms. I regret that I have urgent business to attend to but my wife, the Dame Vaako, will assist you."

He stepped aside and gestured at a bit of darkness in the shadow of a column that did not seem quite like the rest. The darkness detached itself from the shadow and sauntered over tothem, taking the form of a woman.

_'Bitch,_' thought Carolyn, _'This woman would skin her own mother if she thought that it would get her something.'_

And she looked it too. From the heavy lidded eyes to the golden body glove dress that she wore, the Dame Vaako did indeed look like she'd be willing to sell a relative or two for a shiny new pair of shoes, or maybe some perfume. Dame Vaako greeted them cordially, flattering Ra's sharp weapons and Attila's noble stature, but every inch of her was false. Her eyes slid from warrior to warrior, taking their measure and obviously looking for a weakness, or something she could use as leverage. The persistent woman attempted to engage Attila in conversation, but he only answered her in pleasant but guarded tones. Ra flat out refused to make any noise at all. Carolyn had to hand it to her, the woman had guts. Ra and Attila looked like they should be someone's last choice to screw around with.

At last, obviously giving up on the two stonewalling creatures, Dame Vaako turned to Carolyn.

"And who's this pretty little waif?"

"She's a slave." Attila did not offer any more than that.

Since the question was not directed to her specifically, Carolyn didn't look at her, made no inclination to indicate that she'd heard the woman at all. Unless addressed directly or given an order, a slave was unable to speak or make any conscious decision on their own. Carolyn fought the urge to nervously chew her lip. Dame Vaako did not seem to take into account that the small blond woman she was talking to was a mindless drone. She did everything short of directly addressing Carolyn and acknowledging her slave status to get her to speak.

Carolyn said nothing.

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By the time they reached their quarters, Dame Vaako was silently seething at the insolence of this woman. She _knew_ there was something more to her, she just _knew_ it. They may have passed her off as a mindless drone, but there was something they were not telling, something that she was sure the blond knew. She'd figure it out, nothing hid from her for long. And that large gray rodent on her shoulder, ugh. She'd have that thing fed to one of her husband's hounds the first chance she got. The little rat might have a disease. She laughed and bowed gracefully to the new additions. If they only knew...she was not an enemy to be made, that they would soon discover. They had something to hide, she could sense it. She would bide her time and make her plans. They would rue the day they came into her den with their secrets.

The emerged from the main hallway into a cramped dimly lit corridor. Dame Vaako showed them their door and left.

Attila waited until they were within the safety of their rooms before his outburst.

"Gah, I hate that woman!" he exclaimed.

Carolyn cracked her neck. The injection sites were already becoming sore, and the feel of the needles moving just under her skin made her feel slightly ill. She took a deep breath. It was going to be a long day. She looked around at the interior of the room.

"Lights on full," she said clearly, tossing her pack and the bow and quiver against a chair.

Blessed light flooded the room. They were in the portion of the guest quarters that passed as a living area. The room was furnished in true Necromonger style, with a low couch with bland gray cushions over flat stone supports, and coffee table in the shape of a dying man supporting the of the flat table on his back. Like the rest of the facility, the decor was a bland gray with a distinct macabre vine.

A rhythmic pounding sounded at the door. Three pairs of eyes snapped to the door, and the tri laser dots hit the door before Ra keyed off his burner. Carolyn strode the the door and opened it to reveal a young Necromonger soldier who identified himself as Xernen. He presented them with a bow and gestured them from the room.

"The Lord Marshall will see you now."

The trio rose and followed him from their rooms and down the long winding corridors. Carolyn made sure the chibbit was safe on her shoulder and it wasn't going anywhere. She wouldn't put it past one of their Necro-zombie things to eat it or something. She'd already spied several nasties that she'd never seen before, eyeballing them from dark alcoves and it had taken everything she'd possessed to keep from shrieking like a girl and running back to the ship.

It seemed to take forever to reach the throne room. Carolyn was itching to run. Everything about this place was giving her the heebie jeebies.

Upon their arrival, three soldiers lined up on either side of them and the captain went on ahead, calling their names, announcing them to the court within. Ra the blooded Yautja warrior, Attila the mutant hybrid from ancient Earth, and their human slave Abigail Lee. Carolyn saw the large dim room with its statues of death and twisted decor before her eyes settled on the lazy, but dangerous imposing figure lounging in the Lord Marshal's throne on a raised dais at the head of the room.

It was Richard B. Riddick: murderer, escaped convict from the Slam and pretty much any high security prison anyone cared to mention, and low and behold: current head-honcho at Necropolis.

She couldn't make out for sure, what with the goggles on and all, but it seemed as though he were looking straight at her.


	7. The Audiance

**Author's Note: **_Still going. Might need another revision before I'm all done, but here it is for now_.

**Disclaimer: ** _I own nothing_

**Song for the Chapter: ** _Poker Face by Lady Gaga_

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**The Audience**

_VII_

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After haunting her in her nightmares, and annoying her in her daydreams, there he was no less than twenty feet in front of her. His presence filled the throne room like an almost tangible thing, and it weighed on her like her dreams had only hinted at doing.

She choked. She was drowning, dying, he'd _left_ her. She had to run, she had to escape. She took one last look at Riddick reclining on that great stone chair like some kind of a dangerous jungle cat and panicked. She ducked to the left of the open doors and out of sight, scrambling down the corridor and fleeing, running like her life depended on it. Anything to keep the darkness at bay. The large bodies of Attila and Ra had protected her escape from the Necromongers and Riddick, or at least she hoped it had. Her panicked mind did not leave any room for debate. She expected she'd find out if she'd been seen, and when no one came tearing after her she figured she was safe. The heavy doors to the throne room swung shut with a bang that shook the floor and she found herself alone in the frigid gray corridor.

She took a deep breath and tried to get her shaking limbs back under control.

The chibbit, finally spying a chance at long desired exploration, sprang from her shoulder and bounded down the corridor. Carolyn wanted to bang her head against the wall, several times, and hard. Of all the times to play hide and go seek and the little rodent picked now. Shit. She just knew that something was going to take the opportunity to eat her as she played ring around the rosie with the over inquisitive animal. She chased after it, calling softly for it to please, please _please_ come back. She hurried past huge stone effigies depicting triumphant Necromongers, and elaborate murals showing Necromongers at what they did best: killing things theatrically and with gruesome attention to detail.

She fought the urge to laugh. Once she got over the terror at the threat of being gutted by some over eager soldiers with a morbid fascination with death, their decorating skills were actually rather funny.

Carolyn clutched at a stitch in her side. This was getting ridiculous. She was tired and out of breath chasing an over eager rabbit. When this was all said and done, if she got out alive, she'd take up running. It would be just plain sad if the thing that finally brought her down wasn't some Necromatic monster, but her lungs exploding from lack of exercise. At the far end of the corridor, there was a branch. Carolyn skidded to a halt and looked around wildly for the chibbit. She was just in time to see its bushy tail whipping out of sight and around the first turn in a spiral staircase with ornate steel grating, leading to another level. Great, just great. Carolyn hesitated only a moment before darting up the staircase after the chibbit.

She reached to top panting, and had to slap a hand over her mouth.

She had found herself on what appeared to be a balcony that ran all the way around the throne room, right smack in the middle of things. Shit. If she wasn't careful they'd hear her. She dropped to the floor, hand still clamped over her mouth. She knew Riddick had insane hearing, as well as an uncanny ability to sense when people were lurking or sneaking around. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek on the cold floor, but popped them open a moment later when the chibbit made a noise. She spied it attempting to poke its head through the railing a few feet away from her. Cursing low under her breath, she slowly crept to her feet. Keeping as low as she possibly could, she hurried over to it and picked it up. The chibbit rubbed up against her and chittered quietly, chastising her for taking so long.

She poked it for running away and in retaliation it bit her on the knuckle.

Carolyn sighed and began stroking its soft fur. But voices echoing up from the room below reminded her of the events taking place below right below her, and she gave herself a metal smack for letting her guard down. She slipped over to where she could conceal herself in the shadow of a pillar and still watch the proceedings. Sound carried remarkably well in this wide space, and Carolyn found herself yearning and at the same time dreading the sound of Riddick's voice. She gritted her teeth, wishing she could get the convict out of her head. It had been five long years, dammit, and yet he still was rattling around in her brain like a rock she couldn't dislodge.

He had not spoken yet.

He was still lounging on that stupid throne like he didn't have a care in the world, watching his minions and Attila argue with a slow grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Carolyn shivered. She knew that look all too well. Things were about to go south. For who though, she had absolutely no idea. Vaako was working out the particulars of the bargain between the smugglers and the Necromongers, and Attila was cheerfully thwarting every attempt Vaako made to lower the price. Riddick remained silent on his throne watching the world through his goggles, showing nothing but missing nothing either. Carolyn could not perceive his thoughts from his face and it irritated her. She wished she could tell Attila to watch himself, but there was nothing she could do. Besides, it wasn't like it was Attila's first time at the rodeo. He should be okay.

"-the infusion is ready to be mixed. All is as specified," Attila was saying, showing nothing but the cordial and polite facade he was so good at constructing.

Carolyn watched the Dame Vaako bow deeply to Riddick, who nodded with a bare incline of his head, and saunter forward.

"My Lord Attila, you and your associates have been so helpful to us for many a year. I have a wish, nay, a desire," she said, sweet enough to rot teeth and sliding a hand up his arm.

Attila gave a short, curt bow. "My lady, if it is within reason, I will grant it."

Dame Vaako gave a little tittering laugh that set Carolyn's teeth on edge. Carolyn leaned forward, practically burning the company below. She was suddenly fervently glad that she'd chickened out and run. Whatever was about to happen would not be good. Dame Vaako struck her as the sort that wouldn't show her hand and play her cards unless it was good and she was sure of winning. Attila knew it too, from the way the muscles in his calves tensed for movement and his sharp eyes flitted around the room, searching for an out if he needed it. Ra stood still as ever, looking like he didn't have a care in the world, but Carolyn knew better. At a moments notice he could carve his way from the room leaving nothing but a trail of body parts.

She got to her knees. Whatever was going to happen, she needed to be ready to run.

"You flatter me with your generous words," Dame Vaako said softly, "I only wish to know where you acquired such a lovely slave. She does not seem to be with us."

Carolyn stared hard at Attila, almost as it she could command him with her thoughts. Dame Vaako only knew that she was potentially poking a nest with a stick, she didn't know what was in it. It could be bees, or it could have been hamsters for all she knew. But Riddick knew about the planet, she doubted he'd forget it. He knew he'd stabbed her to save his own neck, and if he knew she was there...she didn't know what he'd to. Especially if he was the one running this show. She did _not_ want him knowing she was there.

Attila chuckled pleasantly, hiding his relief, and gestured towards Ra. "My companion here came across the lonely little waif during a regular Hunt on a planet out in deep space. She was barely holding off the creatures and he was impressed with her will to survive, so he rescued her."

Carolyn smacked her head into the pillar next to her. Of all the things to say and he picked a variation of the actual truth. Sonavabitch.

Riddick spoke for the first time. Carolyn's mind went blank. His deep gravely bass was just as she remembered and it washed over her and warmed her straight down to her core. She wanted to smack herself. That was _not_ the reaction she wanted. If her hormones were standing in front of her, she would have punched them. She watched him lift his goggles from his eyes and stared at Attila.

"And what planet was this?"

He had that slightly amused expression on his face, which meant he was planning something devious and that whoever was standing near him should get the hell out of Dodge. Attila looked hard at Riddick. He seemed to know that somehow things were hanging in the balance and that in a moment they could go terribly, dreadfully wrong if he didn't say the right thing.

"The Yautja simply call it _'Delhargaratha'_ which means 'The Dark Place," Attila said calmly, his body taught like a steel cord, all his attention fixed on Riddick.

"Ah, you don't say?" Riddick was looking even more amused, a sure sign that things were about to go south, "What kind of dark place?"

Attila was quiet a moment, then shrugged. "Every twenty two years the planet suffers an eclipse for a month, and the local wildlife comes out. They have an aversion to sunlight and in the dark they swarm the planet like locusts. My partner found her hiding in a rock formation towards the end of the month."

Riddick was quiet, his shined eyes glittering and his mouth a grim slash across his face. Carolyn held her breath. The cat was out of the bag now, and he'd be coming for her if he knew she wasn't a vegetable. Her blue eyes flicked over to Attila's ridged form and Ra's passive bulk. She was quite sure she remembered the way to the ship and she suddenly very much wanted to be there and away from this hellhole.

"Please, please let's just go. Give them the shit and let's go," she murmured.

Riddick shifted on his throne. "And you said her name is Abigail, right?" He looked like he was about ready to laugh.

"That is the name she gave us, before we fitted her with the slave collar."

"How long has she been wearing the collar?" Riddick asked. He was no longer amused.

Attila was silent for a moment, staring hard at Riddick. Dark eyes met shined in a noiseless battle of wills. Attila was the first to move. He studied the man on the throne hard for a moment before showing him his teeth.

"Five years," Attila answered finally. His long black tail twitched once and then he was still, arms crossed and looking like he didn't have a care in the world, and like the man on the throne didn't have all their lives in his hands. Carolyn had to hand it to him. Attila had guts.

Carolyn let out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. After five years with a Yautja slave collar, the victim's brain would be mush. There was no reason for Riddick to approach her; it was useless to talk to a walking vegetable. She would not have to face him. At least, not yet. Though, Carolyn amended, watching his stony expression, with Riddick nothing was ever certain. The man was a giant monkey wrench in the galactic cogs of the Universe. She wouldn't put it past him to come after her just because he thought it was funny.

"I see," Riddick murmured, "You're all dismissed."

Attila offered a short little bow before turning and leaving with the rest of the Lord Marshall's court. They all filed out in a tense sort of manner that showed that they were all fighting not to run. Carolyn grinned. It was nice to know she wasn't the only one Riddick had that effect on. His entire court was terrified of him. It was nice to know some things never changed. The doors closed behind them with a muffled crash and Carolyn decided that the show was probably over. She had no desire to watch Riddick brood, or whatever it was supremely evil rulers did in their spare time. Whatever it was he wouldn't have anything to distract him now and it would be easier for him to sense her presence. She had the chibbit firmly secured in her arms and was about to follow her own advice and get the hell out of Dodge when she heard the unmistakable sound of Riddick's voice.

He was alone now, save for Dame Vaako. Carolyn hid in the shadow of the pillar again. This ought to be good. She had no idea what desires the woman had on Riddick but she was ambitious enough to be capable of anything. She leaned over the rail as much as she could get away with, straining to hear. The chibbit was completely silent, seemingly sensing the urgent need for quiet.

"My lord," Dame Vaako whispered quietly and seductively, having crept as close to him as she thought she could get away with, "You seem troubled. Is there nothing I might do to help my sovereign?"

Riddick ignored her. He sat there on his throne of cold gray stone, deep in thought, closed fist propped against his forehead. His hooded eyes gave nothing away, no sign at all that the sea of chaos that was Riddick's head was boiling madly. Only a muscle working in his jaw proved his calm exterior to be a complete lie. Dame Vaako obviously did not sense the danger, or did not feel that it was worth taking seriously. She laid a hand on his muscled forearm and squeezed, attempting to be comforting. Carolyn let loose an inner snort of derision. Riddick didn't let anyone touch him without his instigating it, much less accept comfort from anyone. And the thought of Dame Vaako actually comforting anything was laughable. She wished she had popcorn as the soon coming explosion would probably be very entertaining. Riddick never did anything half baked.

"Carolyn," he murmured softly and gently, his voice a gentle caressing chastise, almost like a lover.

Carolyn paled. Not what she was expecting.

Then his eyes hardened and his right hand clenched and he slammed his closed fist down onto the armrest of the throne. It cracked. The heavy ornate masonry at the end broke off with a loud clunk that echoed in the silent empty room and shattered on the floor.

"Bitch," he snarled, his deep voice shaking her down to her core, "Stupid bitch."

Carolyn Fry was not the only who'd jumped at that outburst. Dame Vaako's face had turned slightly gray and her mouth was drawn into a tight scared line. She hurriedly bowed and scrambled back in the shadows in fright, recognizing that now was a dangerous time to be poking at the monster that was her sovereign. But her black eyes glittered as she watched the powerful, yet shrouded man slowly rise from his throne and walk slowly away. Riddick's time would come, he'd just given her a deep insight into his jaded and screwed up soul.

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Dame Vaako paced the now empty throne room. Already her mind was jumping to the conclusion that Abigail Lee might be this mysterious Carolyn person. She could see in could be entirely possible, due to Riddick's apparent interest in her. Interest in a mere _slave_. She gritted her teeth. That man had never shown any interest at all in even the most beautiful cortisans that Necropolis had to offer, and the blond slave woman had evoked more of a reaction than any of them. She could see that there was some history between them, and as such if the woman could be acquired there could be some leverage in it for her. Dame Vaako was not a fool, she'd seen Riddick's reaction to the elusive Abigail Lee and her mind was already producing ways to exploit this new situation to her advantage.

At the very least he would pay handsomely to own her, and he might even want to keep her safe. Dame Vaako ceased pacing for a moment. When a man had something he desperately wanted to protect, he'd to anything. But then again, she could not see Riddick risking his life for anyone, even for a mysterious and beautiful slave. She frowned. Abigail Lee's brain might indeed be nonexistent, but if the time came she was sure Riddick would protect the little waif at any cost. Dear little Abby would be a trump card just in case her original plans went sour. She would bring Riddick and this entire Necropolis to its knees.

Still, she could not quite suppress the sudden vicious twinge of jealousy. Dame Vaako was the most powerful, beautiful woman in Necropolis. Riddick could have her if he wanted and yet the Lord Marshal turned down her advances for a scarred slip of a blond whose brain was practically a limp noodle.

Dame Vaako took a deep shuddering breath and made sure her face had a confident, pleasant expression before she strode briskly from the empty throne room. She had a husband to collect.

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_To be continued..._


	8. Fall Back and Regroup

**Author's Note:** _I used the description of the Predator's heating unit from the novel based from the AVP movie. It's a clever idea, and I think it fit's the description._

**Disclaimer:** _Anything you see that you recognize, I don't own._

**Song for the Chapter:** _ISHFWILF by Disturbed_

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**Fa****ll Back and Regroup**

_VIII_

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Carolyn stood motionless on the balcony, staring at the spot Riddick had vacated. Dame Vaako had taken forever to leave, and Carolyn was afraid to move until she did. She wasn't sure she could be quiet, not after what she'd seen. She was _still_ shaking, for cryin' out loud. She was all alone now, and she felt as though the breath had been sucked right out of her. Carolyn closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Riddick scared and excited her at the same time. This encounter with him, however indirect it was, left her chilled and trembling. The way he said her name warmed her right down to her toes but then his anger turned her insides to ice. That anger frightened her, she'd forgotten just what exactly he was capable of. Well, she wouldn't make that mistake again. Riddick was dangerous and she kicked herself for forgetting that.

The chibbit twisted around in her arms, its long ears flicking back and forth, and its long whiskers tickled her ear. Right. She needed to leave. Attila and Ra were probably wondering where the hell she'd got too, and she didn't want the Necromongers to find her up here. There was no telling what they'd do if they caught her somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. And since she was a mindless slave, that was pretty much everywhere. Carolyn turned and was about to again descend the stairs when heavy footfalls echoed up from below. They came nearer and nearer.

Her mind automatically jumped to the worse possible thing that it could think of: Riddick with an army of Necromatic hounds coming to finish the job he started on the planet.

She shook her head. Oh hell no. She looked around frantically for somewhere to hide, somewhere to run, but the corridor she stood in remained a cold and bare place with no nook or cranny for her to into. She swallowed. There was no choice for her but to stand there blankly, like someone had misplaced her. She only hoped that whoever it was was gullible, and most certainly not Riddick. Carolyn waited with baited breath as the heavy footsteps drew closer. Her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest when they stopped. Carolyn resisted the urge to crane her neck and search for the source of the footsteps. They were loud, they must have been close.

She stayed still and watched. Whomever it was must be waiting for something, but for what she didn't know. With a sudden chill she realized that whoever or whatever had been the cause of the footfalls must have reached the top of the stairs. She looked hard but saw no one. She had the uncanny feeling that they were watching her and taking her measure. Ugh, how creepy. Carolyn stood very still. It was quiet before a moment before a familiar clicking broke the silence.

Carolyn fervently hoped it was who she thought it was. If it wasn't she was dead.

Silence again, and an uncomfortable and long moment passed. Then she noticed that the air around the top of the stairs was warped. It moved separately, almost like a heat shimmer. She nervously chewed her lip and the chibbit in her arms began to struggle, obviously not caring at all for the standstill where it could possibly be eaten my persons or monsters unknown. The shape began to move towards her once it realized that it had been seen. When it stood almost directly in front of her Carolyn was about ready to die from nervous apprehension.

A crackling noise broke the stillness and Ra's familiar form materialized into being in front of her. She could not help a sigh of relief, and with it a surge of anger. If she hadn't been afraid that he'd hack her into pieces, she'd have punched him for scaring her like that. He disengaged the hoses from his mask, removed it, and flared his mandibles and roared at her. Her ears rang. Ra stepped towards her and she took one step back. He snarled at her and one large clenched fist connected with her chest. Though it knocked her backwards, she suspected that it was a love tap compared to what he could have given her. He was not seeking to hurt her, merely to admonish her for running away.

Carolyn rubbed the aching spot.

She half wished that she hadn't bonded with a creature that chose to express himself with violence. Seriously, why couldn't the Universe have sent her a guardian who offered tea and cookies whenever she got scared? She'd take tea and cookies and hugs over beatings any day. But then again, she thought watching him, she _was_ glad that he'd come looking for her instead of leaving her at the mercy of whatever monster the Necromongers let loose to search for the poor sods who weren't where they were supposed to be.

Reunion over and done with, he popped his mask back on and motioned for her to follow him.

Ra led her down the staircase quietly and she wondered why they were creeping. She would have thought that Ra would have been allowed to walk freely about the ship, as he was a sentient being that could provide something that the Necromongers desperately wanted. Then again, she couldn't see anyone wanting a fully armed Predator running free around their vessel. Carolyn guessed she wasn't being quiet enough because at the bottom of the steps he bonked her on the head lightly and motioned for her to keep behind him. She rubbed the top of her head and glared at his large back. She decided then and there that she'd teach him how to express himself properly if it was the last thing she ever did.

At the very least she was probably losing braincells every time he conked her.

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Ra meanwhile was no longer attempting to be stealthy. His foot falls now matched his large body: he made no effort to hide them and made more noise than an elephant in a house full of mimes. Carolyn watched him, frowning, wondering what had brought about the change. He had his helmet tucked under one olive green speckled arm and he strode along at a considerable pace, long metal encircled green dreadlocks swinging madly from side to side. She had to almost scramble to keep up with him as she took three steps for every one of his. He made no effort to conceal himself, rather, sought to make as much noise as possible. It certainly worked with whomever they ran across in the corridors: the unfortunate Necromongers who crossed his path took one look at his ugly mug and skedaddled.

Ra plunged into the crowd of Necromongers milling about the corridors without a care for whomever he bumped into. It took them a moment but soon they recognized he wouldn't politely slide through them and they got out of his way. Carolyn walked steadily after him, trying to ignore the chibbit who kept changing positions on her shoulders and trying not to laugh. Between Ra's rampage and the chibbit's bristling tail finding its way into her ear every time it moved her urge to break down and flail was becoming dangerous. She slowly put up her hand and stroked its fur in an effort to calm it, and herself.

No sudden movements. Slaves didn't loose their shit and have laughing fits.

Finally the chibbit curled itself around her neck and was still. She breathed a sigh of relief. Running around and screaming like a psycho was not something slaves generally did and she knew that if she broke character the Necromongers would be on her faster than a merc on a bounty. The chibbit shifted again, nuzzling at her face and Carolyn tried hard not to wince. Every time the chibbit moved closer to her it caused the needles in her collar to press slightly deeper than normal and it was making her nauseous. She didn't know if it was adding more drugs to her system or whether she was just being a sissy, but her vision was starting to go fuzzy every time the needles moved

She took a deep quiet breath, recognizing the corridor they were in. Just a few more minutes and she was home free.

Ra led her back to the dimly lit corridor where their suite was located with the grace of a rhinoceros. Carolyn was shocked that none of the soldiers they'd passed had challenged them because of the Predator's rampage. Then again, when people challenged Yautja bodies started to pile up. He opened the poor door by pounding on the control panel with one meaty fist and pushed her inside. Before he entered himself, he glanced casually up and down the hallway and challenging the eyes brave enough to meet his. When no one dared to front him, he grunted and closed the door.

Ra stomped over to his corner of the room, clicking angrily, obviously peeved that no one had challenged him and given him an excuse to take heads. Watching him, Carolyn wondered whether it was possible for anyone to go through murder with drawl.

He pulled his shoulder cannon off and began to poke at it, his mandibles folding together to click on his teeth, deep set eyes squinting at the deadly weapon in his long fingered talons.

Attila emerged from a back room to greet them, sans kilt. He seemed to not notice that he Carolyn glanced at him in an uncomfortable sort of way, then then had to look away. Even though he had no discernible male parts she still felt uncomfortable with him walking around in nothing but his jewelry. He may be an ancient, even possible deity, from a dead civilization, there were still things one just didn't do and running around naked was one of them.

Attila saw where she was pointedly not looking and looked down at himself and his absence of kilt sheepishly. "I'm soaking it in the bathtub. It's a bit dirty," he explained.

She did _not_ want to know how it had gotten dirty. Ew. Dear god, knowing Attila it could be anything. Uncomfortable visions danced around in her head ranging from dallying with skeezy Necromonger courtesans to a bloody skirmish in a corridor with a body stuffed into some random crevice to avoid to detection. She wasn't going there. That way lay dragons. Dragons in the form of shady time crossing planetary deities with waaay too much time on their hands and grudges that made Lady Macbeth look like Pollyanna.

She shuddered and looked up, only to find Attila still watching her, casually drumming his fingers on the back of one of the ugly leather couches artfully placed around the room.

"By the way," he asked casually, dark eyes drilling holes into her with all the mercy and feeling of a bottom feeder looking for food, "What made you so jittery about meeting the Lord Marshall that you had to run from him?"

"I'm scared of him," Carolyn said lamely.

Attila gave her his probing look, the one Company Enforcers usually reserved for interrorgating people. Carolyn was proud of herself. It was a full four seconds before she started uncomfortably squirming under the weight of his gaze. Hey, enduring Attila's laser beam stare was like having teeth pulled: sooner or later the victim always cried like a girl.

He frowned at her a bit more but said no more on the subject. Carolyn poked her collar nervously, then dropped onto one of the saggier couches. What a mess. Not only was she now playing song and dance with the Necromongers and in the middle of a brewing war, but Riddick was here. And in charge. A chilling reality that shook her like nothing she'd encountered thus far. Carolyn honestly didn't see any way out of this. If he'd been able to get her on the planet, than in the middle of a Necromonger war fleet that he was head honcho over she had absolutely no chance. Now in the privacy of their suite she could twist her fingers to her heart's content, and twist them nervously she did. Attila always seemed totally confident when concerned with his vendetta against the Necromongers and Ra never cared much about anything, but she was scared shitless, pardon her French.

Attila began to pace, still apparently oblivious to the fact that he did not have a shred of clothing on. Carolyn watched him for a moment, temporarily forgetting her worries. He did look funny. Heh, naked puppy.

"All right," Attila said, rubbing his long fingered paws together like an evil villain mastermind, "We need to form a new strategy. The new Lord Marshal is not immediately going to renew our contract, and whatever his reason it still does not bode well for us. Ra, is there anyone outside the door?"

Ra dug his helmet out of the pile of armor, mashed it to his face and methodically moved his head side to side, presumably scanning the room and the corridor outside for nosy listeners, mechanical and human alike..

"No life forms or bugging devices for fifty feet," he reported, removing his helmet.

"How peculiar, I would have lit this room up like a Christmas tree. I wonder if they're slipping," Attila mused.

Ra shrugged went back to checking the state of his armor, repairing where it was needed, buffing the alien metal, and sharpening his various deadly weapons. He gave no indication that he was apart of this party, but she knew he was listening and would interject if he thought it was needed in his clicking growling language. She just did not see him coddling her and speaking in broken recorded English for her. He'd most likely leave Attila to do the explaining to the human when it came down to it.

Attila had stopped for a moment while speculating on the inefficiency of Necromonger snooping, but now he resumed his back and forth trek across the carpet. "Now," Attila said, "Our chance will be coming soon."

Carolyn half expected him to take a moment for an evil cackle, for he looked _so_ much like an evil mastermind, but she still listened quietly and attentively. Whatever Attila had planned would probably be an explosive fete of epic proportions and it would certainly be in her best interest to pay attention and to know the plan like the back of her hand, if she wanted to stay. There would most likely

"The Necromongers are holding a fancy dress ball tonight in honor of their 60th planet gassed. Apparently it's a bit of a tradition to hold a extravagant party every ten vanquished planets" Attila paused. "Bit depressing actually, but I suppose it's not like villains can celebrate over the cute and happy things in life."

"So basically it's a chance to show everyone how fantastically evil you are, get drunk off exotic booze, then get naked," Carolyn said flatly.

Attila nodded. "Basically."

"Oh joy," Carolyn muttered, though she privately wondered if they'd be able to sneak any of the more bizarre alcohols out with them. The Necromongers certainly wouldn't have anything mediocre when it came to their drinks, among with other things. At the very least they'd be able to sell it for a pretty penny. Carolyn sighed. That penny just may be the ticket she needed out of this, a ticket to a life on some backwater preindustrial planet where she could be left alone. She'd pretty much decided that she'd have enough of this universe and this life. All she wanted now was peace.

A sudden vision of Riddick laughing at her, with Dame Vaako latched to his arm like a skinny size 3 leach surged to the forefront of her mind. Yeah, like he'd ever let her rest that easy even if the real Riddick never ever found her. Her mind would never let her go. She shook her head slightly, trying to clear it. Somehow the thought of Riddick with some skanky Necromonger woman made her stomach churn.

"Unfortunately, the new Lord Marshall has decided to terminate our agreement," Attila said, pulling her from her thoughts.

Carolyn's head jerked up.

"How do you know?" she asked sharply.

"I shall admit to being a bit of a mind reader."

Her eyebrows shot up. If that were the case than she was truly indeed screwed in the deepest sense of the word. He'd have known anything she thought.

Attila gave her an apologetic little half smile, as though to prove he knew exactly where her train of thought was headed. "Not exactly. Some people are more inept at hiding their thoughts than others. If you hadn't already guessed, I operate a little differently from your average Joe."

Carolyn shivered, not for the first time wondering whether she'd made a mistake taking the terrifying duo up on their offer of 'freedom'. "I didn't think the Lord Marshall would be that easy to read," she said delicately, still not entirely wanting to outright address the fact that not only was Attila a fierce and quite obviously dangerous individual of indeterminable age, he could also read minds. This shindig just kept getting better and better.

"Oh he wasn't. I couldn't get in at all," Attila said airily, waving a slim dark hand like a courtesan at a tea party, "At least, not without hurting him to the point of reducing him to a gibbering mass of goo. Nope, I read his second in command instead. Vaako was quite easy to read, not quite Sun Tzu, but farther on than Bronte."

"Ah." Ah was a good word. None committal. She wasn't going to even ask.

"So," Attila went on, "according to Vaako, we're unsafe. We know too much and have been trusted far too long. At least, that's what he believes that the Lord Marshal believes. The Necromongers have most likely already begun looking for a new source of the virus. We will have to get word back to base that our contract is not going to be...renewed."

Attila paused and bowed his head and mumbled something. Carolyn waited, not wanting to interrupt his plotting. The mastermind was at work, and she didn't want to poke the metaphorical beehive with a stick by irritating him.

Ra reattached his armor and contributed his opinion of the conversation by testing out his wrist blades on the furniture, and crackling in and out of the visible spectrum.

Attila grinned, displaying a spectacular view of rows and rows of shining finger sized teeth "We simply must go out with a bang. During this _gala_, Ra will cloak and place explosives around the ship. We don't have enough to bring it down, just cause enough damage to create pandemonium. You meanwhile, " here he stare pointedly at Carolyn, who's eyes slid from his laser like gaze, "will steal as many chips as you can, while Ra and I rescue the elemental called Aereon."

"One thing," Carolyn spoke up after a moment, finally sure of at least something.

"What's that?"

"The Lord Marshall, under any circumstance save decimation, is not to be harmed," she said firmly.

The black spikes above Ra's deep set golden shark like eyes rose. "_...Why...?,"_

She chose not to grace this with an answer. They'd either listen to her or they wouldn't. There wasn't a thing she could do about it.

Attila eyed her for a long uncomfortable moment before he finally nodded. "He will survive, you have my word."

Ra grunted, which Carolyn hazarded a guess to mean that he agreed as well. One could never tell with the enigmatic Predator.

"You'll need quite a bit to take him out. Even cryosleep doesn't work on him and it's the strongest stuff I know of that's not illegal," Carolyn offered.

Attila chuckled. "Ra will be able to handle him."

She raised a brow. Ra was a perfect hunter, but Riddick was, well, _Riddick._

Attila saw her expression and tossed back his head and laughed, which did not inspire Carolyn with confidence for Riddick's comfortable safety. He bent and rummaged through one of their packs before retrieving a large glass canister full of a sickly yellow liquid and a syringe the size of a small gun. Carolyn gulped. Attila casually squeezed the trigger causing a bit of the glowing pus like substance to squirt from the tip. It hissed as it hit the carpet.

"Yautja tranc strong enough to bring down something the size of a class 7 Cruiser, nonlethal of course, but..most effective."

And Attila and Ra were both officially scarier than they'd been ten seconds ago. Carolyn watched the sedative slosh around the vial with some trepidation as Attila replaced it back into the pack, but there was nothing she could do. At least Riddick would live. The rest was up to him.

"_What is there...between you... and... Necromonger leader_?" Ra asked bluntly.

Carolyn opened her mouth then stopped. Both Attila and Ra were looking at her patiently. That question had haunted her for five long years. It had tormented her nights and dogged her days. Riddick and his damned eyes had looked at her from her nightmares like a ghost that refused to leave her, and her spine twinged constantly with phantom pains that never allowed her to forget the horror of that planet.

"I don't know," Carolyn said finally. She suddenly felt drained and tired.

"Don't know?" Attila asked.

"Well, on the planet, he could have ghosted us at any point, but he didn't. He had a chance to leave the planet unscathed but he didn't. He came back with me to rescue two people who had a good chance of already being dead. Riddick...was always for Riddick...but he came back with me. In a situation that was most likely hopeless and it wasn't certain whether he'd survive it...he went anyway, and then he -he fell behind, protecting us, and I went back for him because I wanted to protect whatever made him come back for Jack and Imam. I didn't care whether I lived or died at that point. I just wanted him to live and be safe. It was dark and he stabbed me and there was so much blood...I -it hurt. Oh God it hurt."

She hunched over herself and gripped her knees, certain she'd fly to pieces if she didn't hold on as hard as she could.

Attila looked at her seriously. "You are sure that he stabbed you?"

"The creatures were drawn to the smell of blood, it was mainly how they hunted. He bled me so he'd have a chance at getting away. But ...when the creature grabbed me, he wouldn't let go. The look on his face...so much pain. I-I'm so confused."

It was quiet.

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"I do not think Riddick drew your blood," Attila said firmly after a long pause.

"How can you be so sure?" Carolyn retorted, "It's just the sort of thing he'd do. Riddick thinks about Riddick first and foremost. Death by carnivorous aliens his not first on his agenda."

Attila coughed. "I perceive Riddick as a man with nothing to lose and everything to gain. He strikes me as a man with his own quirky sort of honor system. Your saving him gave him a new outlook on life, I believe. Considering the fact that I'm very sure it's his doing that we're being screwed over for this job, I'd say it's a good chance he's not as devious as one would think."

"_Take off shirt...flesh bag_," Ra growled.

Carolyn crossed her arms over her chest. "Nuh uh. If you're hunting me buddy I'm at least dying with my clothes on."

Ra flared his mandibles at her, turned his back and went back to poking at his weapons, clearly offended. Carolyn hadn't realized it was even possible to offend a Predator, or that anyone would live through the experience if they actually managed it. Alrighty then. She was glad her dripping bloody head wasn't rolling on the floor right about now.

Attila chuckled. "Just lift the back."

Carolyn hesitated, then shrugged. What could it hurt? It wasn't like it was anything new to any of them. Ra saw humans as cattle and Attila, well, who knew what he actually thought. As soon as Carolyn felt she had him figured out he went and tore down her world perception and showed her a completely new face. She felt the slight tingle as Ra scanned her and she heard his helmet whir. Then she felt the tip of his claw at her lower back. She fought the urge to flinch and shy away.

"_This is... not a blade scar...THIS is a blade scar_," Ra said, showcasing one of his many scars.

She looked from the smooth fat line splitting the mottled flesh of his arm to the reflection of her own in a shiny coffee table. She swallowed. He hadn't tried to kill her. One of the monsters had struck her from behind, then carried her off. He hadn't thrown her to the wolves. Carolyn slowly touched the fat round scar to the left of her spine. It was so simple. Why hadn't she seen it before?

Because it was easier to believe that than think that he'd betrayed her than tried to save her.

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"Then he didn't try to kill me." She barely whispered it, but they heard her anyway, excellent predators that they were.

"Hardly," Attila said, casually picking up one of Ra's shruiken and fiddling with it. The Predator let loose a strangled snarl and snatched it back, chittering to himself. If she'd been in any other mindset, Carolyn would have laughed.

"He did leave me though," Carolyn said, looking up at them, wanting to desperately search for anything she could blame the ordeal of the planet on, and not admit it to be a fluke, "He didn't come after me."

"His motives for that can only be explained by him, but I can safely guess that once he believed you to be dead at the hands of the creatures, his first priority was to ensure the safety of himself and the two remaining passengers," Attila told her firmly, "It is what I would do."

There was a long silence as Carolyn absorbed this conversation, trying to make sense and come to terms with it. It was cold and completely practical and was a brutal truth that forced her to recognize it and believe. Riddick had seen her dragged away and had logically only assumed that she was a dead woman. And no one would go back for a dead woman. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

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She looked down at herself. Attila had said something about a party. "What am I going to wear to their stupid party thing? A corset decorated in the bones of my enemies?"

Ra growled at her, mandibles flared giving her an excellent view of the stubby sharp teeth lining his mouth, and promptly stuck his trophy bag out of her reach.

"I was only kidding," Carolyn muttered.

She wandered into the living areas. As idiotic as the idea of attending the Necromonger Gala sounded, no way was she going as she was. Not only was she going to stick out like a sore thumb in her grubby traveling clothes but she smelled like a hobo. She pinched a bit of her shirt and stiffed at it, then her head reeled back a moment later. Phew. Worse than that. Well, maybe she shouldn't wash. The smell alone would drive any normal human out of a room like they were on fire. She hesitated. Maybe...Nah. She could barely stand it herself. Shower it was.

She stalked into the bathroom and proceeded to scrub the years of mechanic grime from her skin. She emerged pink and smelling like limes twenty minutes later. The Necromongers may be a lot of things, but skimping on cheep soap they did not. Carolyn felt like a queen for the first time in her life. She smelled like on anyway. Once this thing was over, and if she had time, she was going to come back to the room and stuff every single bar of that soap into her bag as she could fit.

She stopped in front of the closet. Nothing but rows and rows and rows of jewel toned dresses, most of which would barely cover the danger areas. Carolyn snorted. No way in hell was she shy but she wasn't going to show off the plethora of scars criss crossing her skin either. At least not all of them.

A moment passed. This was getting ridiculous.

She slapped a hand over her eyes and stabbed into the closet at random, snagging a dress and plucking it out at random. She opened her eyes and shrugged. She'd actually chosen one of the nicer ones. The cocktail gown contraption was a shimmery silver and actually uncannily reminded her of the shine of Riddick's eyes. She mentally punched herself. Get a grip girl. She slid it up over her hips, fitted the front against her chest before tying it up at the back of her neck. Dropping her hands she crawled back into the closet. Shoes. Shoes...ugh. Not one of the fancy heels in the back of the closet had anything lower than three inches. No way in hell was she going to survive a convict, a freaking carnivorous alien planet, and a hoard of murdering zealots only to be killed by a pair of stupidly tall shoes.

She pulled on her boots and laced them up. They didn't match the dress, certainly, but she could run in them and fight in them. And the steel toed tips could break a man's leg if she kicked right.

"Here goes nothing," Carolyn muttered.

She walked to the mirror and stood in front of it. The cocktail dress clung to her chest and hips before falling to her knees in a silver waterfall and flaring a bit at the back. She twirled. Her back was bare but that couldn't be helped. She actually liked seeing her scars after staring at them for a moment. Combined with the snappy dress her scars almost looked...fierce. Interesting.

She walked back out to her companions.

Attila was fitting his kilt and sliding his jewelry back on. He'd painted gold around his eyes and ears, and fitted gold sheaths for his talons. He'd also attached an elaborate blue headdress to his head, and the whole thing made him look like a god. Ra had dressed up as well. In his own way. He'd taken what looked suspiciously like human fingers and strung the shiny white bones in a thick necklace around his bulky neck. His attempt to dress up ended there, however. It was more like he sought to both intimidate and taunt his death obsessed hosts. Carolyn shook here head. Between the two of them, the Necromongers had absolutely no idea what they were in for.

The trio walked out the door, ready to face the monsters.


	9. Rave

**Author's Note:** _Clean? No. Getting there? Yes._

**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing!_

**Song for the Chapter:** _Hey Baby by Pitbull_

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**Rave**

_IX_

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They crept from their room quietly, knowing full well that they were up to no good and like all persons with devious intentions, half expected their foes to be waiting to descend upon them with much pain and theatrical retaliation. Or at least that is what Carolyn imagined would happen if the Necromongers ever figured out what they were doing. Ra and Attila seemed to not be bothered at all by the secret of their mission, but she knew by the way their shoulders were tensed that both of them were fully ready for an attack of any sort and were ready to slaughter any opposition.

When nothing happened she allowed herself to relax. They stood in the pitch black corridor for a moment to get their bearings.

Carolyn blinked and coughed. The air was permeated by a heavy cloying smoke that filled her lungs and head and made her feel sleepy and stupid. She shook her head, trying to clear it. She was surprised that the collar she still wore did not seem to be filtering whatever this shit was out. The feeling was not helped by the heavy bass thumping noise that most likely

passed for music over the Necromonger PA system. It was ridiculous, the amount of noise and new senses flooding her system. She felt like she was going to explode.

And then the collar kicked in and her head cleared.  
Carolyn's head shot up, gasping for air. She registered the heavy smoky smog rolling into her lungs, but it now no longer affected her. Her head now clear she looked around and her stomach fell when she realized she was standing in that dark corridor alone.

Attila and Ra were gone, and the chibbit was nowhere in sight.

"Shit," she muttered, "Now what?"

Well, she assumed that even though the she was on her own, the plan was still in place. Attila and Ra were destroying things with much gusto, and with the drugs in the air inspiring stupidity the chaos that was going to ensue was going to be of epic proportions.

She ground her teeth a moment, thinking. If she was going to go through with the chip thieving that was supposedly her end of the deal, she needed to at least get to some kind of computer. Not a regular access terminal, she doubted the information would be so readily available, but some of the more high up players for one. An evil grin slid across her pretty face. Dame Vaako. That woman had to collect information like a gangster collected guns and ammunition. If anybody in this flying death trap had access to information about a process that wasn't even supposed to exist, it would be her.

And her living information and files would be in a public computer.

Carolyn wanted to rub her hands together and giggle. She hadn't actually interacted personally with the woman, but Dame Vaako had indeed created a lasting impression from the little she had seen. And not a good one. It was clear that the unscrupulous dame had plans for all of them, Riddick included, that were harmful and dangerous.  
Carolyn still didn't know what her feelings were about anything really, but she knew that she most definitely did not want Dame Vaako deciding them for her.

She swallowed, and the heavy darkness suddenly pressed on her. She hadn't…killed anyone, since the planet. What happened with Owens…that was murder. Because she'd been afraid. It was a dark part of her soul that she knew was waiting just around the corner. An innocent man had died trying to do the right thing. Carolyn had vowed when she'd first stumbled from the wreck of the ship that she'd never let anyone die like that again, die trying to fix an atrocity that she'd been instrumental in initiating.

She wasn't sure if she could actually murder someone again, even if it was someone as treacherous as Necropolis' leading lady. Who was she to judge? Who got to live and who died? Well, at the very least Dame Vaako was a dangerous wild card that needed to be confronted. Carolyn knew that she couldn't murder someone in cold blood, watch the light fade from their eyes. But she also knew that if faced with a choice of life or dead, she would survive no matter the cost. If the Dame Vaako was the one that fell because of that choice…so be it.  
She took a deep breath. Into the darkness she strode, towards the dragons that lay most certainly at the end of the road.

.

.

At the end of the hall was one of the huge Necromonger gathering areas used for public service announcements and order distribution. Now though it wasn't being used for anything of the sort. If she'd thought that the smoke was bad in the corridor, it was doubly so here. Carolyn almost choked before brain registered the fact that she wasn't actually getting high and dying of some Necromatic psychedelic hallucinogen. For the first time she was actually glad of the thing stuck around her neck. She grinned and kissed her fingers then pressed them to the bulky collar, for once not minding the press of the needles into her skin.

_Thank you irritating brain addler stuck to my neck like a leech. I actually like you now,_ she thought.

She took a deep breath and for a moment entertained the idea of taking a run at the crowd and hitting them like an over eager mosher. Watching the giant undulating mass writhe like some sort of huge whale made her feel like she'd get squashed or trampled if she even tried to worm her way in gently. Ugh, there was no help for it. The public control terminals were on the other side of the hall, and the only way to them was through that enormous crowd. She squared her shoulders and began shoving.

The Necromongers were surprisingly courteous even though they were quite obviously smashed out of their bloody minds. Carolyn found that she only had to deliver a few well placed jabs into some scandalously individual and they shimmied their way away from her whilst never seeming to break their frenzied dance. Although just because they moved that did not mean she was entirely safe. Several times she almost lost an eye because some idiot was waving their long spindly manicured fingers like a Gorgon 4 tentacle monster on crack, screaming to the dark effigies that stared down on the writhing crowd.

The statues of the previous Necromonger Lord Marshals were surrounding the huge room, looming over the space like the dark soul sucking gods they were rumored to have been. While she in no way felt they were gods, they certainly did give Carolyn the creeps. Anyone with ghosts nipping at their heels would have felt the same. And Carolyn had ghosts. Wraiths that haunted her consciousness, and tormented her dreams. Riddick, Owens, Shazza, Zeke...they all weighed on her like weights that she could never be free of...

She shook her head.

It wouldn't do to keep harping on the subject, especially now that she had a mission to complete. Right. The terminal at the end of the hall needed her attention. She jabbed her elbows into some backs and kept moving, the heavy music pounding into her brain until the blood in her head seemed to flow in tune with it. That was probably the idea, but it did have the effect anyway that she was slowly melting down and that there would soon be no Carolyn, only the drugs and the beat of the drums.

And then everything stopped.

At least for her anyway. The crowd was still yelling and screaming, and the beat of that gawdawful music was still annoying the shit out of her. The crowd moved around her but she stood still. She honestly thought her lungs and heart couldn't decide whether to fall straight into her stomach or just plain disappear. Cold sweat pricked her spine and held her ridgid, and she could not move even if she'd wanted to.

Because Riddick was less than five feet in front of her, staring at her.

Those shined eyes bore straight through her, and pierced through to her soul like a knife made of ice. Some part of her brain commented that if she touched her chest over her heart there might even be blood, but she couldn't move, couldn't breath. His eyes held her captive. They watched each other, two contenders in an arena filled with ghosts.

She didn't know who broke first. Perhaps it was him, or maybe she moved and didn't register it, but he took a step towards her. That broke the spell and the terror and paranoia involving him came surging back to the forefront of her mind like a tidal wave. Whether he'd left her or not...whether her imprisonment and torture on the planet had been because of a freak series of coincidences and not because she'd been abandoned, he was still an unknown factor in her future. Most likely dangerous. He was Riddick after all. She never knew for sure really what lurked behind that dangerous smirk and the silver of his eyes.

And she didn't want to know. Not when it meant her freedom. She ran. She fled into the crowd, pushing and shoving recklessly, anything to get away. She didn't even stop to look back and see if he followed, there was only running. The adrenaline and her blind terror got her through the crowd and before she knew it she was on the other side of the great hall and there were no more bodies to push through.

She scanned the crowd, panting. No Riddick. Carolyn breathed an audible side of relief and slumped against the wall. Either he hadn't been able to catch her, or he'd let her go. Either thought was equally disturbing. Riddick not catching her was Riddick off his game, and in a place like this full of sharks, that meant he'd be torn to pieces sooner or later. Riddick letting her go...that scared her because it was most likely. Riddick was never off his game, because life had taught him that that meant certain death. So then the only logical assumption was that he'd let her escape.

That worried her. Had he let her go only to snatch her back later, like a cat playing with a mouse. The idea was a little disconcerting. Whatever his reasons, Carolyn was quite sure she wasn't going to like them.

She shook her head, trying to shake herself out of the arguably dismal funk she'd got herself into. She had a mission to complete and it was not going to get done with her standing in a corner and crying like a little girl. She scanned the area for a moment before she spotted the public access terminal half sticking out of a wall. She strode over to it and grimaced when she got a look at the thing. This was one thing, she decided, that she would not miss about Necropolis. Their technology was so rooted in their dead shit, that it spilled over into the living world and affected even the things that should be the most mundane.

Their technology was a fusion of bio-organic matter in the process of continuous decomposition, and mechanical parts. She brushed at the screen, feeling what seemed like cobwebs nip at her fingers in an almost nauseating manner. She felt like she'd just stuck her hands in a bucket of cold water, with things swimming around in it. Every now and then she'd feel something brush at her skin and she fought the urge to yank her hands from the terminal and flail. Ugh.

She gritted her teeth. This had _so_ better be worth it.

**..Query?**

.

.

_Commander Vaako, Dame Vaako, Private Quarters._

_._

**Searching...**

.

**.B Deck, Section V25, Suite 4**

**...Query?**

**.**

_Terminate Session_

**...Session Terminated.**

.

She took the extra time to clean up her tracks and power down the computer. She didn't want to risk having someone come by and figure out what she was up to. The Vaako's quarters would have in the public database, but it would have certainly raised questions as to why someone would even want to search for that information in the first place. It would have been ironic to have come so far and survived so much, to only be brought down by some random schmuck happening by with his bimbo to search for a quiet nook, only to discover that a complex search had already been made, and by a brainless slave with a jellied noodle no less. Yep. That would fly.

Carolyn did all but drop a worm into their system. When she was satisfied that even a level 5 technician wouldn't be able to figure out she'd done for almost year, she left in search of the Vaako's suite.

She didn't have to go far. After the initial headache of actually having to run a search in that creepy damn computer, it laid out a surprisingly simple map for her to follow. She didn't even have to download it into a handheld computer. Carolyn grinned evilly. It was almost poetic justice that their efficiency would serve to drag them down into the shit pit where they belonged. At least that's how she saw it anyway. Who knew how this thing would actually play out? It seemed that the good guys won out less in the real world than they did in the actual legends. And who knew if they were even the good guys? Everyone always certainly thought that their particular side was the right one...

Carolyn hoped she was doing the right thing. Her hard won conscious was something she intended to keep, and protect. If it came down to a choice, whatever that choice was, she wanted to make the right one.

Speak of the Devil.

She stared at the heavy ornate doors with holographic ghosts playing across the surface of the shimmering black expanse of the door. They formed flickering numbers and words, proclaiming that she'd reached her destination and the shit was about to hit the fan in simple concise terms: Vaako, Suite Four. She took a deep breath. Let's do this. She peered at the door, frowning and wishing she had her tool bag. The unfortunate thing about the rich was that their nitty gritty secrets were either public or hidden, and if they were hidden than they had the best protection money could buy. And knowing the Vaako's they had the best protection and then some. Carolyn was not looking forward to the headache she was going to have by the time she was done breaking into their house. And she'd have to take care to cover her tracks. Lord Vaako was leader of the Necromonger forces for a reason, the man wasn't retarded.

She cracked her knuckles. Time to make this door cry.

She ran her hands along the door, searching for the panel that hid the admission electronics. Her mechanics fingers had toughened over the years, rough with callouses, and she almost missed it. Hooking her nails under smooth faceted surface she decided forgo the searching for the fastenings in favor of just yanking the damn thing off. So long as the entrance codes were untouched and showed no sign of intruder, she doubted anyone would notice a loose panel. Vaako was good, but he wasn't that good. It also helped that he wasn't going to actively be looking for anyone up to no good. As far as he was concerned, he and his devious Dame were untouchable. The rich usually were.

Well, Carolyn thought, finally exposing the doors innards, that was about to change.

Whomever had designed the door knew their shit. She had to pull all her stops and cheats and then she still felt like a toddler attempting rocket science. It was clumsy but finally the door sparked and admitted her. She continued to tinker with the tiny electrical parts powering the door, carefully repairing the damage she'd done until at a fair first glance most wouldn't be able to tell she messed with it.

She straightened and smoothed the silver silk of her dress and enjoyed watching the kinks simply fall out of it. It was the most expensive thing she'd ever worn, and she enjoyed feeling like a queen while she wore it, even though it would probably be trashed by the time this little shindig was over. Sad.

She slipped into their quarters like a ninja and let the door swish silently closed behind her.

Wow. And she'd thought their rooms were depressing and macabre. The Vaako Suite officially took the cake for creepy and morbid. The cold gray room was swathed in heavy black drapes and steel tiling. She crept forward, boots clicking on the floor and the sound echoed a little unsettlingly throughout the room. She felt like she was in church, at least a church for evil villains. She half expected to find a cauldron bubbling with poison or maybe some ugly drooling minions but it was quiet.

She amused herself poking through Dame Vaako's jewelry and Lord Vaako's weapons collection before she headed for their computer. After the monster of a door, the computer was surprisingly easy to hack. They probably hadn't expected anyone to actually gain entrance to their suite, and as such had left their computer relatively unprotected. She ran a search and found what she was looking for in record time. She felt rather smug that she'd pegged the Dame Vaako down to a tee. To a courtesan like Vaako, knowledge was unimaginable power and the woman probably wielded it like a scythe that cut through her enemies without mercy.

She downloaded the information and directions into her palm-computer and stowed the device back into her bag. Hopefully she could be away before they figured out what she'd done. If they weren't...she did not want to think about what Vaako would do to her. They'd probably considered themselves untouchable and she did not allow herself to dwell on the fact that she was the schmuck that had managed to do it.

She scrambled for the door then froze when she realized there were voices on the other side. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she could almost hear the inner mechanisms of the door unlocking and releasing the pressure gauges that would allow the door to open. She'd slowed it down with her tinkering, but the door would open and she could not imagine that whomever was on the other side would be particularly happy to see her.

.

.

She looked frantically around for a place to hide before darting to one of the heavy black drapes. It was a shitty hiding spot and she knew it. One misplaced gust of wind would have the curtain, and most likely the edge of her skirt, rearrange themselves disastrously for her.

The people coming through the door were too busy to care though.

Vaako came through the door with a face like hard stone and his wife followed after him hissing like an angry goose. She kept up her angry tirade while her husband keyed the door closed behind him in a slow and methodical way that suggested he was trying not to lose what little temper he had left.

"I don't know how you don't see it," Dame Vaako snarled, "Riddick is dangerous. Is he really what we want in a leader?"

Lord Vaako whirled on her. "I went along with your scheme last time because you convinced me it was for the good of the Necromonger people, and now you're asking me to do this again! Where does it end? Are you so hungry that you'd risk the safety of our people just for a seat in the Great House?"

Dame Vaako curled her upper lip at him and said nothing.

Vaako shook his head irritatedly, muttered something about power hungry idiots, and stomped out of the suite.

Dame Vaako stared at the space on the cold floor that he'd vacated, breathing heavily from her nose. "Fine, " she whispered, "I'll just have to do it myself. Coward."

Carolyn wanted to rub her hands together gleefully. Not only was she getting to see a vital piece of the chain of events that was unfolding around them like an unstoppable cataclysm, but it was also a deliciously juicy bit of gossip. Honestly this was all straight out of Macbeth by some unnamed Old Terran author. She felt like she was back in Company Grad School watching grainy dramas on the old holo vids.

Dame Vaako meanwhile had glided to a cabinet in a shrouded corner of the room, yanked it out and pulled out a small brown package. She dumped the package on a table and dissappeared into the dark of the suite, returning a moment later carrying two heavy crystal goblets and a bottle of the most expensive liquor Carolyn had ever seen. Her mouth watered and she added the wine bottle to the list of things she wanted to steal.

Dame Vaako elegantly poured the wine into the goblets, lifting the the bottle with a little flair that Carolyn thought was unnecessary especially because the woman thought she was alone. Then Dame Vaako took the brown package and shook a white powder into one of the ornate antique beakers. Carolyn swallowed a giggle. It was all so terribly dramatic. She knew that the situation was horribly serious and that whatever had been in that package probably boded ill for whoever was going to drink wine out of the stupid goblet, but still. Drama most fabulous.

Dame Vaako carefully arranged the two goblets on the little table and then left, a cold fixed expression on her face.

For a long moment Carolyn stared at the fancy cups on the table, then she looked at the door. Choices choices.

.

.

To be continued.


	10. Death of a Serpent

**Author's Note:** _ I really hope this site doesn't kill me for putting songs in my chapters, but I'm not writing them out so I hope it's okay._

**Disclaimer:** I_ own nothing._

**Song for the Chapter:** T_hunderstruck by ACDC_

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**Death of a Serpent**

_X_

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Carolyn looked left and right before stepping out cautiously into the middle of the room. She half expected some sort of hidden booby trap to pop out and get her, especially after a new development like that. She looked at the goblets, frowning. She guessed she didn't have much time until Dame Vaako returned. Most likely with whomever it was the woman was planning on knocking off. Carolyn tapped a finger against her silk covered thigh and thought hard. Whatever was in the package was probably poison, though she wasn't sure what kind it was. How to poison people wasn't exactly taught in flight school.

She debated. She had no idea who the poison was even for, if Dame Vaako was even going to use it at all. Carolyn sighed. Who was she kidding? The poison was probably for Riddick. Dame Vaako was so power hungry she wouldn't have set her sights on anything less. Riddick's seat was the highest in Necroville and when the woman had been unable to put herself in his bed, she'd tried the next approach and had gone straight for the jugular. Carolyn shook her head. She'd wasted precious seconds standing there thinking. She stepped up to the table and deftly exchanged the goblets' places. It was the oldest trick in the book, but it was worth a shot.

Hopefully Dame Vaako didn't have a way of telling the glasses apart. Oh well, if worse came to worse she could always stab the bitch with one of her smaller wrenches. Most people carried stuffed animals to make them feel better, Carolyn Fry toted around a small arsenal of tools.

She wanted to laugh, not having been able to resist having a little taste from the untainted bottle. That booze was good and the little sip she'd had had gone straight to her brain like a heat seeking Company missile after a hijacked pirate ship. She wanted to sing and dance, and, wow that shit was good. She was totally stealing the bottle. She didn't care what Attila would say, that lovely crystal glass full of liquid joy and happiness was as good as hers.

Her dastardly deed done, she scurried back to hide in the black folds of the drapes and waited. She wondered whether she should have brought the bottle to entertain herself with, surely it wouldn't be missed...

.

.

It was a good thing she stayed where she was.

Dame Vaako had returned in record time toting an extremely amused looking Riddick. Carolyn had absolutely no idea what excuse Dame Vaako had given him, but she knew Riddick didn't go anywhere he didn't want to. He obviously knew something was up and was just along for the show. Carolyn wished she had a comfy chair and a beer. Riddick wasn't retarded so she doubted that she'd have to step in, so the drama that was about to unfold was probably going to be unbearably juicy.

Carolyn wanted to laugh. Dame Vaako's entrance was quite a bit different now than last time. She threw the doors to her suite wide open with an elaborate flair that even a regular courtesan would have raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at. She sashayed in, moving in a slow and practiced manner that was just sensual enough to get away with without being indecent. Carolyn glanced at Riddick.

Riddick was smirking the saucy grin of a man who knew he was about to get betrayed and raked over the coals by a beautiful woman, but was still milking the situation for all he could get. His eyes were glued straight to the tramp's gold covered shiny ass. Carolyn Fry was severely disgusted. Riddick hadn't changed a jot. Maybe he hadn't left her, but he was still the same smarmy and violent lecher used to getting his own way.

Ugh. It was a shame that that's what her brain indignantly insisted, but all the same she couldn't drag her eyes away from him. He really was a good looking man. She didn't know whether it was the wine talking or her hormones but between the two of them they were making rude assumptions about the caramel skin sliding deliciously over those rock hard muscles and-

She wanted to punch herself.

It was _not_ the time to be oogling a convict, no matter how gorgeous he might happen to be, especially when her life currently hung in the balance. Carolyn shook her head after giving herself that mental smack down and went back to watching the Dame Vaako pretend to bustle about the nonexistent kitchen. She didn't know why the woman kept up that little charade, especially as it was obvious that she had never cooked a day in her life. Carolyn bet she knew how to whip up a wicked holo meal though. Pushing buttons was freaking _hard_. Seriously.

_Okay enough sarcasm_, she thought, pulling her brain away from bashing the woman who was currently about to get poisoned. She hoped anyway. The Universe had long ago taught Carolyn Fry that things did not always go the way she wanted them to, and if the Universe could have its way she'd be shafted so fast she wouldn't know which end was up.

Dame Vaako handed Riddick his goblet with a little flair and a sultry smile that promised silky skin and sheets in his future. Carolyn was jealous of that little effortless smirk, as there would be no way in hell she could ever reproduce that facial expression even if she had liquid confidence and a few hours of practice in front of her bathroom mirror. Dame Vaako was eying Riddick's glass, the one she though contained the poison. But it didn't. Carolyn wanted to cackle villainously. Take that bitch. Wow the alcohol was really talking, whatever was in that bottle was pure magic. She wondered through her hazy brain how long the effects would last.

"You honestly think I'm gonna drink that shit?" Riddick asked, amused, swilling around the sparkling ruby liquid in his glass.

Carolyn entertained herself a moment watching the way the dim light glinted off of the deep red liquid in the ancient looking goblet. The goblet itself probably could have paid off every single year's worth of indentured servitude on the Grolier Classic, and she didn't want to even think about what the alcohol was worth. Probably more than she could ever make in several lifetimes at least. Working as a humble mechanic anyway. Working as an evil Necromonger overlord looked like it payed better.

"Come come Riddick, surely I can't thank my deliverer? You released the Necromonger people from the clutches of a villain. Surely you don't want to...relax?" Dame Vaako whispered, watching him with hooded eyes that made the person she hit with it think of sex, sex, and more sex.

Riddick knew she was up to something and he was enjoying every minute of it. Carolyn ground her teeth. The smarmosaur did _not_ have to enjoy it that much. She didn't know if she even liked Riddick, didn't know what she felt for him. Hell, he didn't feel anything for her, he didn't even know she existed. She didn't know why it bothered her but it did. Riddick watching Dame Vaako and liking it just rubbed her wrong. She didn't even like the man! Why the hell did it bother her?

Because it didn't. It didn't bother one bit. No, no it didn't.

Dame Vaako crept close to Riddick and put her mouth close to the shell of his ear and blew. "Come, Riddick," she whispered, "Live a little."

Riddick turned his head, merely watching her. His dark and heavy goggles covered his eyes and gave no sign to what lay in the depths of those shined eyes. Not even the quirk of his mouth alluded to what would happen next. Carolyn couldn't seem to tear her eyes away. She almost felt like a pervert kid watching the next door lady get undressed. The scene was unfolding and she could almost see the situation coming to a close. The drama was over, the actors were done. Curtain fall.

Dame Vaako shook her head and laughed. "I've done nothing but work hard for you, My Lord. You don't trust me Riddick?"

Riddick chuckled. "Lady, I can throw you a lot farther than I'd ever trust you. I ain't drinking your shit. You can though."

Necropolis' most powerful courtesan laughed low, watching the man in front of her not move from that casual stance. It was obvious to Dame Vaako that Riddick wasn't going to drink unless she showed him it was okay. Oh well. She raised the goblet, toasted him mockingly, and raised it to her mouth. "Very well, if you insist."

Dame Vaako sipped from her cup, smiling over the rim at him. Carolyn could see her smooth throat move with every swallow. Carolyn held her breath. She didn't know what was going to happen. Maybe it hadn't been poison, maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe it had been a love potion and at any moment the woman was going to jump Riddick and try to rip his clothes off.

A moment passed. Then she choked. Dame Vaako dropped her goblet, gasping. She clutched her throat and strained, trying desperately to breath when she could not get her lungs to take in air. Red foam flecked her mouth. She reached for Riddick, who stood immobile and watching her struggle, grasped at the front of his armor. She vomited a fountain of blood and the contents of her stomach before dropping like a stone. Carolyn and Riddick stared at her. The whole thing had happened within the space of a few seconds and now Dame Vaako was lying still in a ever widening pile of her own blood.

Dame Vaako was dead.

Riddick stared at her body a moment before throwing back his head and laughing. "Bit in the ass with your own shit!"

Carolyn jumped, the sound of his laughter yanking her out of the shock Dame Vaako's death had inflicted. Riddick slowly crouched down next to Dame Vaako's body and stared at her a long, long moment.

"Such a shame when a pretty woman dies," he murmured, "Pity you weren't happy. But then again...that's the difference between you and me. I'm content to survive. You just had to climb one step higher.

Riddick chuckled and rose. He didn't bother to walk around the darkening pool around the dead woman but walked straight through it, tracking bloody foot prints to the door. Keying it open he turned and looked back. Those goggles didn't reveal anything and his expression was as flat as a stone. Carolyn had been quiet and there was no way he'd known she was there but...the look on his face chilled her. A moment passed.

He left, still shaking his head and laughing.

.

.

Carolyn waited a moment, frozen, before cautiously emerging from the drapes. Dame Vaako's presence, now that she was dead, seemed to fill the room like an almost tangible thing. Carolyn shivered. It was creepy. The woman seemed to have influence even when she was dead. Carolyn's booze addled mind insisted that those glassy eyes were following her around the room, accusing like they'd known that she was the one who'd switched the glasses.

It was creepy and gave her chills running up and down her spine. She wasn't one to be squeamish but she felt like she was back in that damn cave and searching for Zeke's body. There was no help for it. She had to be sure.

Carolyn walked over to the corpse and pressed two fingers gingerly under the jaw just to be sure. There was no pulse. She yanked her hands away and wiped them on her dress, panicking, then cried out when she'd realized what she'd done. It was too late though, two vermilion streaks marred the delicate silver fabric. For some reason she wanted to cry. The nicest thing she'd ever owned, or rather stolen from a power hungry group of sadistic zealots, and she'd ruined it within the first three hours of owning it. Sonofabitch.

She sighed, getting herself under control. Oh well. Maybe she'd have time to go steal another one.

At any rate she'd over stayed her welcome and it was high time to be getting out of there. The suite now radiated wrongness, and she felt sure that someone would be along to find out what was going on. Attila and Ra had no idea where she was even if they did feel like rescuing her, which she wasn't actually confident they would. She needed to be gone, and fast. She didn't want to consider what would happen to her if she were discovered. Carolyn strode towards the door, pausing again at Vaako's weapons rack hanging on the wall. She ran her fingertips along the varied number of blades, admiring them fondly. Vaako might have been a lot of things, but he did know his weapons and the yatagan sabers in particular caught her eye. She sighed. With one last fond look at the swords she turned to leave. Seriously, the dude knew his blades. Her fingers were itching for the nice little number at the back with the thin curved blade with an intricately curved edge. That thing could make people cry.

_That's it_, Carolyn thought, I_'m stealing the damn thing. I don't care if I don't get anything else out of this except my life. That sword is mine_.

She snatched the saber she'd been eyeballing and immediately felt better with the feel of the smooth dark leather scabbard in her grasp. Her fingers tightened on it. This was right, this was what she needed.

_Sir Pigsticker,_ she thought, looking at it, _I dub thee...hmm what's something cool? Sword's have names, and not stupid ones. What should I call you? Aha! Sir Pigsticker! That works. Let's go buddy._

And disregarding the fact that she was carrying on a conversation with her new toy she reached for the door to key it open. Except that it slid open before she could touch the controls and her frightened blue eyes met Vaako's shocked brown ones. He choked, looking past her to where his wife's body lay prone and ruined on the floor. Carolyn followed his gaze and could imagine how it looked. A strange woman in his quarters, with blood on her expensive cocktail gown and one of his swords and his wife dead on the floor. There was blood everywhere, not to mention that Riddick had walked all through it tracking bloody footprints all over the damn place. She doubted Vaako would slow down a moment and take the time to see that there was no way her size seven combat boot could be Riddick's size twelve. Vaako's face went from pale to dark purple. It did not look good, no siree.

She tried for bullshit anyway. Hey, it might work. "I can explain!"

It was surprise, she thought later, that saved her. Vaako had been a soldier all his life and it didn't pay to be easily surprised. He was surprised though, and shocked, when he saw his wife dead and it took him a moment to pull himself together and deal with the intruder. So when he drew the massive sword from his belt and swung she had time to toss the sheath off of her own saber and parry. She almost didn't make it and his blow was strong enough to rattle her teeth. Screw this. If she tangled with him for much longer she'd be finished. Sure she'd taken fencing lessons on the Grolier Classic for fun, and she'd weaseled Ra into sparring with her on the ship but in no way was she prepared for this. It was clear. If she fought Vaako she was going to die.

She through him off and ran, pausing to snatch up the scabbard as she went.

Vaako was hot on her heels though, she could hear the heavy stop of his boots as he came rocketing down the corridor after her. He almost caught her, his gloved hand was snatching at her hair, when three explosions rocked the ship. Both Carolyn and Vaako stumbled and fell with the rolling of the ship. The lights flickered and people screamed. The music sputtered out and for a moment it was quiet. For the span of about two seconds they stared at each other, each wondering what the hell had happened.

Carolyn saw the moment Vaako remembered that his wife was murdered. That crazed light came surging back into his eyes and he lunged for her. She shrieked and fled, boots scraping against the smooth tile before they found purchase on the slick floor.

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Up and down corridors he chased her. Through several levels and a smoking call room they careened. Carolyn trying desperately to stay ahead of him and Vaako refusing to let his wife's killer go free and unchallenged. People not involved with actual mainanence on the ship were screaming and milling about confused. She did her best to dodge and stay out of there way, actually leaping over one terrified man crouching in the corridor. Vaako merely barreled through, eyes only for his wife's murderer.

Carolyn dodged this way and that, trying to lose the crazed man who stayed at least three steps behind her. She had to give him credit, the man was tenacious to say the least. He followed her with a zeal that was impressive, especially for a man that was rumored to have an unhappy marriage.

Fleeing down a long corridor she spied a small door off to her left and slammed into it. It was her lucky day, surprisingly enough. The door was unlocked and upon hitting it it hissed open and she careened into the empty hallway behind it.

The ship chose that moment to heave and thrash again like a dying animal and she crashed into the wall, trying to stay upright. Vaako was on her a second later, swinging madly and leaving dents in the metal of the wall. She dodged and struck out, the yatagan's shining silver blade making a gleaming half moon ark in the dimly lit corridor. Vaako dodged it, laughing, clearly in his element and brought his weapon down with all his weight behind it intending to cleave her in two. Carolyn threw herself away from it and she crashed into the wall again before darting back down the hall.

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They played the cat and mouse game for what seemed like ages. She'd be ahead, then the ship would heave like a lame beast and he'd be on her. They'd fight, and she'd barely get away again and then she'd run. Run, run, run. It was getting harder and harder to stay ahead of him. Her exhausted body whispered through the stitches and the pain in her lungs that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he caught her, maybe the pain would go away. She had enough pain in her life to last her for forever. So tired. Of everything. Of the Necromongers, of the damn fighting, backstabbing, of Riddick. Of e_verything_.

But she ran. Even though the foggy haze of exhaustion was clouding everything, she knew she had to run.

Carolyn's breathing was harsh and coming in little gasps as her ragged lungs could now barely function, and she was clutching the agonizing stitch in her side. She was good, but not that good. Vaako was conditioned for this sort of thing, for the hunt, for the chase. He could out last her, out fight her, it was pure dumb luck that she'd managed to stay ahead of him for this long. She couldn't even hear him breathing, merely the steady and rhythmic pounding of his boots on the floor. His prey would not elude him for long.

Carolyn spied a staircase to her right, hoping for freedom at the top. It certainly looked like the one near where they'd left their ship anyway, and took the steps three at a time. Maybe she'd be lucky...just once more. But at the top her luck ran out. Her boot caught on the last step and her tired body couldn't catch herself in time to recover and keep running. She slid on the smooth marble feeling nothing but dread, and sadness that it was all over. Vaako was going to get her. Lights out for Carolyn Fry.

She came to a stop in front of a pair of heavy black combat boots and looked up, her heart sinking down into her stomach like a lead weight that was trying to learn how to beat. She looked up, dread making her sick as her gaze slid up the black cargo pants to the silver armor and golden skin up past the strong jaw to the eyes that glinted like diamonds in that familiar face.

She swallowed, knowing that the next few seconds could decide whether she lived or died.

Richard B. Riddick was not looking at her however. He had his shiv in one hand and a notched Necromonger scimitar in the other. He stood with a lazy cat like grace, and had that damn smirk tugging at his mouth. He was loose and liquid, obviously ready to slaughter an army. To the untrained eye he looked at ease, confident, but to Carolyn that hit all the danger signs. On the planet she'd seen it again and again, the calm before the storm. And she knew what would happen next. Screaming, blood, death. Riddick was humming, some nameless little ditty and watching Vaako who was clearly wondering whether he should attack his sovereign or just wait and see what would happen. Carolyn stared up at Riddick for a moment before dropping her head.

She was so fucked.

She was going to die. Either Riddick was going to kill her, or he was going to let Vaako do it. Her body shuddered, exhaustion tremors wracking her frame. So she just decided to concentrate on breathing. Whatever happened next would be completely out of her control. It wasn't like she could even have a chance at winning with the condition she was in. All she was concentrate on breathing and the feel of the cool floor against her cheek.

She felt whiskers against her cheek. Glancing up, she spied the chibbit peeking around from behind Riddick's boots and its twitching nose was inches from her face. She groaned softy but couldn't bring herself to push it away. Her tired body was taxed to the limit and she honestly felt like she might have damaged something. Hell, she was still gasping like she couldn't get air and she'd been lying there for a few minutes. Ugh, she felt like an old lady. Maybe she _was_ getting old.

Vaako swallowed, and found his courage. "My...My Lord Marshal, this, this woman killed- MURDERED my wife, I demand recompense! Please...no, I demand that you give her to me!"

Riddick pursed that full mouth that Carolyn never could seem to take her eyes off of, and considered for a moment. "No."

Vaako choked. "No?"

Riddick grinned at him. "No."

Carolyn didn't know if he was refusing to hand her over because he wanted to protect her, or if he was just being an ass and was enjoying pushing Vaako's buttons. One could never really know with Riddick, the man was an enigma.

"Then," Vaako swallowed and licked his lips, "Then you would stand against me."

"So it would seem," Riddick said, continuing to grin that infuriating grin of his.

Vaako swung the sword in his hand, loosening up his wrists, clearly working up the courage to attack his Lord Marshal. Riddick watched him for a moment, then glanced down at the weapons he currently held in his hands. Riddick's grin deepened. He tossed both the scimitar and the shiv off to the side. He bent, shined eyes never leaving Vaako's face and put his mouth close to Carolyn's ear. She trembled, feeling the heat of his breath on the shell of her ear and not knowing at all what she should expect.

"Hey babe? Wanna let me borrow your bag?"

Carolyn let out something like a strangled squeak.

Riddick chuckled. "Thanks."

He rose, winding the leather straps of her bag around his fist.

Vaako stared. "What is this? You're fighting me weaponless?"

"No," Riddick said, "I'm going to beat you to death with this lady's bag."

Vaako choked, then his face purpled and he flew at Riddick shrieking something unintelligible. Riddick stepped over the motionless woman at his feet to meet him.

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To be continued


	11. Chibbit, meet Convict, Convict, Chibbit

**Author's Note:** _Here's the next installment_.

**Disclaimer:** _ I own nothing._

**Song for the Chapter:** J_ustice by Rev Theory_

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** Chibbits, meet Convict, Convict, Chibbit**

_XI_

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Riddick was still laughing as he strode causually from the Vaako suite.

Dame Vaako with her fucking slamming body and perfect ladyship manners, planning and scheming like a viper, and she was now brought down to the dirt with the rest of the dogs. It struck his funny bone in a pleasant and ironic way that her aristocratic ass that had been too good for anything was now lying in a pool of her own blood and puke.

What an ironic way to go. Just went to show that no matter who you were in life and how high you went, you could still fall. Riddick never forgot that for a second. It was one of the things that had allowed him to stay alive for this long. Never trust, and always watch your ass. He shook his head. Riddick had witnessed a lot of weird deaths in his life, but this had to be one of the more funny ones. He chuckled again. Dame Vaako would neither be missed or be cried over. The woman had probably worked over enough people that some of the lesser Necromonger Courtesans would probably throw a party.

That was the awesome thing about this place. In his experience hiding one's pleasure at an enemies downfall was something generally kept under wraps. The Necromongers openly celebrated.

Sadistic Fuckers.

He strode down the dimly lit corridor dodging small bands of intertwined couples having drunken shenanigans in shrouded nooks and crannies along the hall. For a self proclaimed superior race the Necromongers were oddly grounded in the drama and the backstabbing and the nitty gritty reminiscent of the twisted social groups in Butcher Bay. He chuckled at a woman screaming at her lover and the girl she'd discovered him with. That's why he liked this place: it reminded him of home.

Dame Vaako would have fit in with the worst of the worse of the Buther Bay slaughter house. She took out obstacles with a cold ruthlessness and didn't look back, and she made sure that her enemies Dame Vaako didn't give a damn about anyone, especially him. She had pretended to love him, sure, and had tried to jump his bones more than one occasion. While he would normally not hesitate to tap that ass, in this case it would have been more trouble than it was worth. She'd tried to whisper sweetness in his ear. Tell him how strong and handsome he was. How great they would be together... Bullshit. There would have been a knife in his back as soon as he was all used up, and not to mention she woulda probably given him the itch.

He shuddered.

Dame Vaako reminded him of Johns. Ugh. Both had been arrogant self-preserving assholes. Two different people from two different classes of society, but both bound by the same willingness to slaughter and stab whomever stood in the way of what they wanted. Both had had their shit catch up to them in the end. Johns and his entrail munching alien buddies, and then Dame Vaako with her gut vomiting hoodoo juice. He wondered how the Universe was going to have him go. Probably would be worse than both those ends combined, what with the life he led. Shit, maybe he'd trip and fall and land in a Necromonger meat grinder and then be fed to their hounds. Yeah, he could see that happening. Irony was certainly a bitch mistress.

Riddick had honestly entertained the idea of using her, just for the fun of it and for something to do. Just to see the look on her face when she realized it had all been a scam and that he'd been playing her just to show her that he didn't give shit about nobody. It would have certainly taught her a lesson that she wasn't the hot shit that she thought she was, and that she wasn't the only one who could use people.

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Then THEY had popped into his head. The life changing trio, Carolyn, Jack, and Imam. He stopped, shined eyes sweeping the corridor and a chill running up his spine. He felt like someone had walked over his grave. They certainly had a habit of ghosting into his head whenever his humanity was in question. Ever since that night on the planet. He thought he'd made his peace with fear a long time ago, but that damn planet had taught him what it was to really be afraid.

Even now, though he'd never ever admit it to anyone, the nightmares got him some nights. He'd wake up in a cold sweat, halfway out of wherever he was sleeping fingers clenched around a knife and silver eyes searching for monsters that were not there.

He shivered.

A hauntingly familiar face swam across his mind's eye, pale and afraid. He remembered with perfect detail what her face had looked like as she bent over him. He'd thought he was a goner, and then there she was, eyes bright with fear and mouth blue with the cold. Her hair had been plastered to her head and her numb fingers had grasped his arm. Her hands had been shaking, but her grip had been sure.

Carolyn Fry. His mind whispered the name like a lullaby and against his will a heat boiled in his belly.

She had never been what he'd gone for, she was never his type. Small, blond, face a little too square and hands a little too rough. Too much muscle. Nah, she wasn't what he'd have ever looked twice at in a million years. But on the planet...she'd been beautiful. That fierce little woman had squared off against Johns, the monsters, herself, and the dark. Squared off against him. She'd jumped him, tried to beat him, never gave up. Carolyn Fry had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He never forgot the fact that she had come back for his sorry ass when he'd been all set to royally screw the whole lot of them over. She came back for him. He remembered lying there in the cold mud and rain, listening to the creatures singing and popping like an orchestra of monsters. His leg was bleeding like no other and he knew it was only a matter of time before all the mud he'd rolled in stopped fooling the creature's sense of smell. Only a matter of time before Miss Richard's boy became alien shit.

But then there she was. Pale face illuminated by that bug bottle that she'd made, not even a sure fire light. She went into the dangerous dark for a killer, she went into the dark knowing that it was a good bet she might not make it back. She hadn't hesitated but had gone straight to him, gripped him under his arms, and began to try to heave him to his feet. He remembered clearly what she'd said to him.

"Come on Riddick. I said I'd die for them, not for you."

Not for me.

He'd been all set to leave them but that flyboy pilot had convinced him to risk his freedom and go back for two bleeding passengers who had most likely been eaten and digested already. She said she'd die for them, but not for him. And what did she do? Went back for him with a damn glowing bottle. Gave him that smile, that gentle smile that shouted thousands of feelings, thousands of meanings, and died for him. She _died _for him. Not a day went passed when he didn't think of those bright blue eyes and that smile.

Not for me. Irony was a bitch.

Irony had kicked him in the gut again when Jack had died. Kicked him when he discovered that she'd disappeared looking for him, kicked him when the Necromongers got a hold of her, and kicked him a third time when she'd lay dying because of him. He'd have been dead without her. She'd given, without a thought or hesitation, the distraction needed to beat the old Lord Marshal. He remembered the look on her face. She'd smiled at him. He remembered that conversation too.

"Are you with me Kira?"

"I was always with you."

Then she died. No remorse.

He'd wanted to scream. Carolyn was gone, torn from him in the dark. Imam was gone, killed by the fucking Necromonger _dogs._ Riddick had done his best to try to find Imam's family, but they were gone, probably dead. Now Kira...Jack was gone, and he was alone. What did he have? A blood thirsty army obsessed with death, obsessed with each other, and obsessed with power.

He was going to ride them and drive them into the ground like dogs. He'd do it for Kira.

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She had always followed him like a little sister. They had had glorious adventures for a few years after dropping Imam off on New Mecca. Then came that run in with Toombs on Orion four. Jack had almost died when the ingrate tried to capture Riddick for the bounty on his head. That had opened his eyes to the fact that Jack would not be safe with him. Would never ever be safe with him. So he'd gone back to New Mecca with her on the pretense that they would be visiting Imam. And he left her there. Never looked back.

He didn't realize the idiot would try to follow him. He should have seen it coming

But she did follow him, she followed him and then she died trying to save him. And she gave him that _smile_. Carolyn had given him that same gentle smile as the monsters killed her. As if she were apologizing because she could not help him the entire way. As if she was telling him she lov- No. He was not going there. He'd given up that sort of thing a long time ago. Richard B. Riddick did not love, and no one loved him.

He stomped down the corridor seething mad. First Carolyn, then Imam. Jack had been the last straw. Riddick had learned his lesson about forming emotional attachments to people. People died, and then he was alone. The best way to not be hurt was not to get close to anybody, pure and simple. People left and disappointed, it's just how it was and it was never going to change. Riddick ran a hand over the stubble on his head, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind. He'd done enough thinking about the past. And it never got him anywhere. Now he was king of the Necromongers, and he needed to plan his next step.

Hah. Now that was an amusing thought. If those trigger happy mercs from the Company could see him now... Riddick chuckled.

He stopped outside the heavy double doors that proclaimed_ Lord Marshal, Esteemed and Most High Leader of the Holy Necromonger Armada_ in a flickering blue laser projection. He keyed in his pass code and the doors hissed open silently. Bliss, pure and simple. His rooms were completely dark and he welcomed that beautiful darkness with a satisfied sigh. He lifted his goggles to rest on his forehead and massaged his temples.

Ugh, what a day.

He ambled over to his huge bed and lay there, feeling his muscles loosen and relax. Whatever the Necromongers were, they didn't skimp on the simple pleasures of life. The bed Riddick slept in may have belonged to a dead man, but it was the most comfortable he'd ever been in. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the feeling of his body going liquid and sinking into the cloud like softness of the bed. Heaven. Though he didn't allow himself to rest completely. In a hell full of power hungry psychopaths it wouldn't do let his guard down. Especially since Vaako would head back to his quarters at any moment now and would find his wife's corpse. And since he'd been the last person _in_ the Vaako suite, he wouldn't put it past Vaako to attempt to assassinate him for seemingly killing his wife.

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Riddick sighed and lay still, feeling the darkness sing to him. Here he was completely at home. The darkness meant safety, it meant that while others would have trouble sneaking up on him, here he was in his element. Here he could rest. It wasn't perfectly safe but he had the advantage here and most of the time that was all that mattered. He didn't know how long he lay there, in a sort of catatonic state, but he was jerked out of it by a light pressure on his chest. His eyes shot open to find himself almost eyeball to eyeball with a strange rabbit like creature.

_Chibbit_, his brain told him, followed by,_ How the hell did it get in?_

Riddick kept his eyes locked with the chibbit's and slowly reached for his shiv. He vaguely remembered reading somewhere that they were valued for their fur and intelligence and were used primarily as pets. It was probably someone's pet, though that still didn't explain how it had gotten into his room. His eyes slid around the room, then focused on the grates covering the air vents. Sonofabitch. Well, that was yet one more place to booby trap when he went to bed for the night. He looked back at the chibbit which was still sitting between his shins and twitching its whiskers at him. Ugh. He was not in the mood to deal with some dame's lap rat. He gripped the smooth cold steel handle for a moment, waiting a heartbeat before he slashed at it. Riddick was quick, but the chibbit was quicker.

It sprang from his chest to the floor and darted underneath the bed.

Riddick sat up and looked around, scanning everything to be sure that it hadn't left the room the way it had come in. His shined eyes revealed no chibbit. Riddick slowly leaned over the side of the bed. He was slightly surprised to discover the space under the bed devoid of chibbit. Wow, the little bastard was faster than he gave it credit for. Staring at the empty floor under his bed he rolled his eyes. This was getting irritating.

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He grabbed the headboard and pulled himself back up only to discover that the chibbit was back to its original position between his shins. They stared at each other a moment before Riddick snatched for it. It lept to the side, slightly faster, and he missed. He sighed. That's how it was, was it? Riddick made a show of dropping his shiv on the bedside table. Then he reached for it again.

The chibbit crept towards him and allowed itself to be picked up.

Riddick lifted up the chibbit, holding it under its front legs. Thick silky fur bunched up around Riddick's fingers while the rest of the chibbit's body down like a sack of fuzzy gray pudding. The chibbit seemed resigned to being held in such an undignified manner, though its ears flicked back and forth, clearly wondering what Riddick was going to do

Riddick studied it. It wasn't dangerous, but it could still be very annoying. He had an urge to feed it to one of those Necromonger zombies and see what would happen. Rat verses zombie, which would come out on top? He chuckled. Then the chibbit's little chain collar caught his eye. There was a thin blond curl wrapped in and around the delicate links.

Time seemed to slow down. His fingers reached for it and for some reason he seemed to have trouble breathing. He didn't know why, it was a damn lock of _hair _for cryin' out loud

Riddick slowly untangled the little curl of gold. He held it carefully, a little sliver of sunlight in the darkened room. Deja vu, he'd done this before. He raised it to his mouth and breathed in deeply, scenting it. He almost dropped it in shock. That was impossible. _Impossible_. He'd _watched_ her die. But that familiar scent didn't lie. It overwhelmed his senses and made his lips tingle. His brain growled the name low and her face surged into his mind's eye. Carolyn Fry.

She was alive. He thought the dog alien freak had been messing with him. He knew the critter had some kind of telepathic abilities, hell, he'd felt the thing try to poke around. Riddick wasn't sure what all he'd gotten, it had been a long time since the psychos at Butcher Bay had tried to rattle his brain, and he was out of practice. He'd figured the freak had fed him the story to get a reaction, something, he wasn't sure. But this changed everything. Carolyn was alive.

Riddick wasn't sure what he was going to do, what that meant, but he did know he wanted her alive while he decided. Speaking of...

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Riddick examined the strand of her hair again, then the glanced at the chibbit.

It stared at him with its huge dark eyes, nose twitching then it deliberately sunk it's tiny teeth into his knuckle. For a moment they both sat there, then Riddick's brain registered the tiny twinge of pain. Oh no it did not just bite him. Riddick snarled at it and in one fluid motion, grabbed his shiv, only to find that the chibbit was now sitting expectantly at the door to his chambers. If an animal could look prim, this one managed it. It reached up and scratched the door, mewling.

Riddick sighed and slowly got to his feet. Alright, he'd play ball. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

"You bite me again, all bets are off," he muttered.

Riddick pulled his goggles down securely over his eyes and made sure his shiv was stuck within easy snatching distance before he keyed open the door and stepped out into the hallway. There was no one around. Even fried out of their minds the Necromongers new better than to have their loud parties anywhere near their Lord Marshal's door. Riddick grinned. The fear was still going strong. He let the door hiss closed behind him, then on second thought he booby trapped the door into exploding. He had a niggling feeling he wouldn't be coming back, or that his new position as Lord Marshal might become precarious. Riddick had always found that when one was in doubt of one's imminent survival, leave presents. The exploding kind.

The chibbit had bounded ahead of him down the hall and was now looking at him. Riddick jogged after it.

"Whatcha' worried about?" he said, more to himself than to the critter he was following.

He grinned, thinking how amusing the scene they must be making. The all powerful Lord Marshal being led around on some wild ring around the rosie chase by a doxy's pet fur ball.

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The chibbit led him down halls, through corridors, and across rooms. There didn't seem to be a rhyme or a reason to its choices. It would skitter along a few paces, sniff the floors and the walls, and then change direction. Riddick frowned. It was following a trail, but what the hell kind of a trail went everywhere?

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Just when he was about to get fed up with the whole thing, they entered a wide open room at the head of a small staircase. Riddick stopped, listening. The chibbit had scampered forward, then stopped long ears twitching. Then it promptly scrambled back to him where it proceeded to hide behind his boots. Ah, so that's how it was then. Riddick wondered what it had led him in search of, and wondered what exactly would be getting its ass kicked this time. Heavy footsteps and the racing of feet sounded in the distance. He sighed. No wicked beasties, just people. A cry echoed up the stairwell followed by an angry roar. On a second thought, Riddick stepped to the wall and wrenched a curved scimitar from the hand of a stone statue.

He waited motionlessly.

The chibbit crept around behind him to peer cautiously out from behind his boots. Riddick glanced at it and laughed quietly at the sound of its small pink nose twitching. It looked up at him and tried to nip him through the heavy leather of his boot.

"Nice try," he said, "I'm not leaving now though, things are finally getting good."

He swung the sword, loosening up his wrist. He might not have to kill anyone, but it never hurt to be too cautious.

The sounds were coming closer and closer. He could hear softer booted footfalls mingled with the heavy clank armored military ones ones. He couldn't tell how many there were, and suddenly wished for a shooter. Oh well, it wasn't like he hadn't done this before, he'd make do. He could hear the sharp clang of metal on metal, and cocked his head. Whomever was being pursued wasn't totally helpless, though that unfortunate someone was breathing harshly as they struggled up the staircase, desperately trying to stay ahead of their pursuer.

He was not expecting to see the woman who came running like a bat out of hell past the top of the stairs

Carolyn Fry burst into view. Her face was flushed, her pupils were dilated in fear, and there was a dark purple bruise around her throat. All Riddick could think of at the moment was _hot damn_. He wanted to smack himself. Now was not the time to notice her pale skin or the way that damn dress hugged her sweet body like silver water, or the way her skin smelled like sweat and blood and woman. He swallowed, the only weakness shown.

She hadn't seen him yet. She reached the top but her foot caught on the last. Carolyn tripped and slid across the floor to lay sprawled at Riddick's feet. He watched her eyes level with his boots and then slide up his body to reach his face. At the last moment his eyes snapped to Vaako's. He would not let her catch him looking, no siree.

He was amused when her gaze lingered on his mouth. Interesting. It looked like he wasn't the only one that remembered the spark.

Vaako was watching them and Riddick knew the man had figured out that his wife had been ghosted. He was chasing Carolyn around because he figured she'd done it. And maybe she had, who knew? Riddick wondered how long it would take the man to crack. Duty to his wife? Or duty to the Lord Marshal, who was clearly standing between him and the prize. Choices, choices.

Vaako made his. "My...My Lord Marshal, this, this woman killed- MURDERED my wife, I demand recompense! Please...no, I demand that you give her to me!"

Riddick waited a moment, watching Vaako's wild expression. "No."

Vaako spluttered for a moment. "No?"

"No."

"Then," Vaako swallowed and licked his lips, "Then you would stand against me."

"So it would seem."

Riddick watched Vaako's face go from an angry purple with a vein throbbing in his forehead, to a dead white. He knew it wouldn't be long before his rage and sorrow at loosing his wife killed his sense of loyalty to his Lord Marshal. Riddick almost sighed. The line of people forming to get their ass kicked by Richard B. Riddick was long and ongoing and Vaako would not be the last. He smirked suddenly. Didn't mean he wasn't allowed his fun after all.

He bent and put his mouth to Carolyn's ear and reveled in her little shiver. "Hey babe? Wanna let me borrow your bag?"

She squeaked and he grinned. The animal in him stated that she was as good as his. Riddick told the animal to shut up. But he'd still be willing to consider the idea. Oh hells yes. Carolyn Fry was one sweet piece of spit fire ass.

He wound the heavy leather strap around his fist. Her bag was weighted. What the hell did she even have in there? The damn thing must weigh at least thirty pounds. Oh well, he'd ask her later, after he made Lord Vaako cry.

Vaako stared at him incredulously. "What is this? You're fighting me weaponless?"

"No," Riddick said, "I'm going to beat you to death with this lady's bag."

Vaako's mouth opened and closed silently, clearly wondering what the hell was going on. Then his gaze flicked to Carolyn's still body. Vaako had stopped looking at him and was now regarding the broken woman lying at Riddick's feet with a kind of insane hunger. Go for it buddy, go for it and see where it gets you.

Vaako went for it. His rage gained the better of him and he lunged at Carolyn. The blade whistled through the air like the breath of a specter as he moved.

Riddick grinned a feral little smile and stepped over Carolyn. Already Riddick was being suppressed by the brutal animal within. He was in his element now. This is what he was made for, what he was good at. He wasn't worried. This was going to be _fun_.

The fight was on.

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To be continued.


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